


A Dungeon to Each Their Own

by VoltageStone



Series: To Each Their Own... [1]
Category: Victorious
Genre: F/F, Fantasy AU, Jori (Victorious), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:18:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13709076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoltageStone/pseuds/VoltageStone
Summary: Dungeons are a way to protect those who it serves. However, terrible things come to all when that is jeopardized, especially when it causes the most powerful Madam to vanish, seemingly to betray those who she protected. In time, though, she is freed from her own dungeon by a warrior. The warrior which becomes chained to her ankle...





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, to start off, this will be a part of the "A [Blank] to Each Their Own" series. These won't be related in any way other than the title similarities, the pairing, and the fact that they are SLOW BURNS, and really long stories. So this one is the first one. :)
> 
> Also, number two, this won't be updated immediately, alike "A Ship to Each Their Own" simply because I'm focusing on other stories.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, though! :)

** _No One's Perspective_ _-_ **

Quiet chuckles escaped his lips as he gripped the small stick in his grubby hands, prodding at the small, scurrying insects. Momentarily he picked up his head, dark eyes narrowing at the warm light illuminating from the town square before brushing long, red locks from his forehead. Biting his tongue eagerly, the stick poked the ground wildly, his mischievous eyes watching the small beetles crawl. Another giggle formed before morphing into a scowl at the distant yell. "Alright ma! I'll be there in just a moment!" he growled, sneering once she spoke again.

A tall, brute woman stormed through the lingering crowd along the edge of town, hands holding her long, battered skirt. "Samuel L. Kingsley! Get back here right now or I'll whoop your ass with that wooden paddle!" she spat, folding her arms across her wide chest, dark eyes peering down. "No ten-year-old ought to be by the forest this time of night."

"But ma," Samuel picked himself up, groaning, "The town square's lit up; I can see right fine."

"Do the bears celebrate Carnival?" her rasp asked sternly, lips pursing once he dropped the stick. Slowly, brunette hair shook with her head as she exhaled. "Your father wants to see you; the dungeon is easier to see now."

"The dungeon?" dark eyes grew to the size of saucers, the skinny frame perking excitedly, "Really? Can pa really see her? The bruixa?"

The woman chuckled, her wrinkles disappearing as they always had before she murmured, "Well, why don't you find out?" The young boy's feet danced anxiously at the spot, his arms briefly clasping around his mother's waist - as that was all he could reach - before short, compact strides darted off towards the light. The youngest Kingsley shuffled through the crowd, his face contorting to a grimace once strong liquor reached his nose.

"Oi, Samuel! You want some'fing to drink?"

The runty boy turned around, shaking his head politely at the broad-shouldered man, waving his hands gently. "No thanks Sir Barnaby, I'm gonna see my pa and the dungeon!"

"Ah," the bearded man paused, eyes twinkling patriotically as he gazes up towards the tall mountains which reached the clouds and millions of stars with no effort. "Yes," he continued, "Go, it is a fine night to see the dungeons. What a magnificent structure it is... Where I come from, the dungeons are-"

"Grimy, dirty and smelly," Samuel made a face of playful disgust before laughing with the booming chuckles.

"That's right m'boy," large hands clapped against small shoulders, "Now go, see the great mountains of this here land." Casting a quick grin, the boy scurried off once more, his feet prancing about the many intricate steps to the joyful music. Dark eyes flashed towards the side, passing the many masks to find two others with long, wooden sticks in a duel. He smirked as the blonde paused to wave, beckoning him to join the two. Samuel shook his head before setting off once more. This time he caught sight of his father, a short man with long, red hair in a braid, gazing at the mighty mountain.

Stark, blue eyes switched down to meet dark, glowing orbs once he felt a hand brush against his. "Aren't you cold my son?" he tilted his head curiously, his own grip tightening around the thick, wolf skin on his back.

"Nah," Samuel shrugged, "It's spring ain't it?"

The man chuckled, wrinkles crinkling around his eyes before they gazed up ahead. "Look at it Samuel. It's an utter, beautiful masterpiece. No dungeon can be carved the way that the Madam has." Dark eyes followed the gesture towards the stone entrance, the two pillars beside the large opening and the long, lengthy stairs flowing down, lit by torches. Alike his father, he had always admired the architecture of the town's dungeon - or rather the _bruixa's_ dungeon.

"Can you tell me the story again? About the bruixa at the pond," he asked softly, hands tugging at the man's shirt.

"Ah yes," he murmured, seating himself on the lush, green grass while his worn hands caressed the whiskered chin. "Well, one day I had gotten myself lost in these woods when out fishin'. You see, I was only 'bout twelve then, perhaps eleven, so I didn't know my way around properly," his wise eyes blinked down at his son, who sat with pure, innocent intent. He smiled gently before continuing. "Well, I heard steps, tens and tens of steps through the trees! My eyes widened for my fear of bears coming at me but no, it was not to be. Luckily of course," he adds as an after thought. "I shuffled through the over-grown shrubs along my path and I saw giants - reaching as high as our ceiling and as wide as our bookshelf - with armor clanking and footsteps bounding. I was ecstatic with a mixture of horror and awe.

"My eyes watched as they curled along the path, going right for me! I turned my head and," he paused, watching Samuel lean forward, "There she was. My gods did it put a fire in me. I quickly bolted towards the side of the path and felt sweat at the back of my neck. 'Damnation!' I thought, 'I can't wear my hat like this!' I tore off my hat and bowed once I heard heavy horse hooves nearby. My knees touched the ground and I waited...but I heard nothing. Hesitantly I picked up my head and there she was. Do you remember what she looked like my son?"

Samuel shook his head wildly, freezing momentarily at the sudden halt of the story. "Uh- wait, I've never seen her!"

"No," his father scratched his chin, "Suppose not. But you remember what I told you, right?"

The young boy shifted in his seat, biting his lip. "Uhm... She's beautiful?"

"As if cut from a marble and molded by the gods," the man finished, "Yes, beautiful. I ask you that because that is what is said from legends. I can assure you, though, it is very true. When I looked up at her, I saw the very same as she sat on top of her strong, black stallion. Her eyes, her eyes are so pale I cannot say whether they are as green as the meadows here or as blue as the waters some miles off from the town. She said to me, with my crossbow in her hands, 'This looks to be fun tool. What do you hunt?'

"My eyes widened in the sheer shock of this great woman speaking to me, to me of all people. I answered, humbly, 'Just some deer and fish. Though, I suppose whatever beasts lurk in these woods.' She nodded and agreed before setting off, handing me back the crossbow. I remained on the side of the path, watching as the giants continued to march, the ones closest to me giving a generous, toothy smile... Some of them barely had teeth," he chuckled humorously. "Once they had left, I put the hat back on my head and looked down. To my surprise, I had been holding another item that the Madam - I assume anyway - had given to me." The father reached around his side before pulling out a small flash of silver, the engravings in the metal centuries old. "This is what she gave me; the knife, my son, that protected your mother from the bears when I first met her."

"Wow," Samuel hummed, grinning like a fool as he felt a large arm pull him to his father's side. Both remained silent, watching the sky above them. The boy frowned in thought, biting the inside of his cheek. "Pa?" he asked after a few moments, "How powerful is she really?" The man turned his head, peering down at his son with a placid expression. "I-I mean, my friends say that she's not nearly as powerful as the average warlock. She is a witch, right?"

"A bruixa," he corrected before nodding, "But yes, a witch all the same. Now who's been goin' around saying that about the Madam?"

"Timothy," Samuel babbled immediately. The elder Kingsley merely snorts, shaking his head in disappointment.

As he shrugged, the burly man sighed, "Well, that's to be expected from the Mare family. Now don't listen to them. They weren't around to see the Madam; in fact, if they come out here tonight they may catch a glimpse." The red-haired boy dipped his head down, vaguely recalling the new family taking over the pub. They are a nice set of people, as Samuel reasoned, though he had yet to hear any sort of acknowledgement other than indifference in regards to the Madam. However, furrowed brows still were set across his forehead, teeth nibbling at the bottom lip.

"Pa? How powerful is she? She really doesn't move mountains, right?"

"Samuel," the man whispered, "Just because one doesn't do doesn't mean they can't do. She's never moved mountains to my knowledge, but she's carved out this one without using tools. The Madam built her own cave system and dungeons, unlike most."

"But so can a warlock!" Samuel let slip before his eyes widened. Small hands clasped over his mouth feverishly before he mumbled, "Well, that's what Timothy said anyway."

The older man only chuckled before admitting, "Well, I'm sure many can do that, yes. And it doesn't seem that dangerous, no, but the Madam is a one of a kind."

"What do you mean?" the small boy asked, determined to show his friends wrong.

Blue eyes flashed excitedly before the man answered, "Well, she's a very talented bruixa, becoming one of the most powerful witches already. You see, bruixa witches are the most powerful kind of human witches alive - though there are bruixa warlocks too... Then you have the fact that she's a Guardia - the keeper of the Oestemoor Dungeons - which adds the other forces along side her. The giants I saw, my son, are the same giants that guard the many rooms of the dungeon. She also has Loyals, the first of the guards."

"But, beg my pardon pa," the boy interrupted, curiosity brimming full, "But aren't all Guardia like that?"

"From what I've described so far, yes; except for the Loyals, that is of the Madam's creation. Actually, forget that last point," the man rubbed his rough chin, "The other Guardia in the mountains near may have taken on that tradition... Anyway," he shook his head, "Her spirit is untamed, one that cannot be contained easily within the confines of her flesh. Do you know what that is?" Samuel shook his head slowly, eyes trained on his father. "She's a Psyche, my son."

Samuel's skin crawled unpleasantly, the color draining from his usually flushed cheeks. He had heard of Psyches and their abilities. Many in the town spoke of them as taboo, their mouths murmuring 'demon.' Though the boy had heard of many great tales of Psyches, the unnerving sheer power that ran through their veins often haunted his dreams. His father took no notice to his son's worry however. "P-pa? So, is she on our side?" Samuel stammered hesitantly, taking note of his father's high respect for the Madam.

"Yes, and don't worry m'boy," he grinned cheekily, blinking down at red hair, "She has protected us for several decades, do you really think she'll attack? Especially when it's the time of the flesh?"

The runty boy let out a shaky laugh before giving a small smile, in spite of his sudden nerves. "So, do many know?"

"Not among our line of mortals, no," the man murmured, "Though I wouldn't be surprised if the community of Guardia knew." Just as the younger Kingsley opened his mouth, wanting to know more about this interesting bruixa, the man stiffened, standing abruptly. "Look, look my son!" he smiled enthusiastically as Samuel bolted right up, eyes following the gesture, "There is the Madam!" Dark eyes widened at the pale figure behind the short, stone wall, overlooking the town. The man beside him went to his left knee, arm hanging on the right. "Bow my son, give her respect."

Samuel mirrored his father, eyes darting towards the few, scattered people around them. His gaze momentarily lingered on the lord of the town doing the same. He bowed his head, his mind immediately growing in wonder about the bruixa looking upon them all. About what the world must be in her eyes and not one of a simple mortal like himself.

Pale eyes flashed open, lingering down at the figures below before wondering towards the heart of the town. She stood tall with a thin, black robe draping down from her shoulders. Porcelain skin almost glowed in a stark contrast against the full moon light. Long, dark brown hair fell gracefully, waves tumbling down while pale hands clutched the stone wall gingerly. Her cold stare softened at the distant music, mind buzzing frantically. Her gaze momentarily darted towards her wrist, eyeing the triangle inked on before going back to the land before her.

"Madam," a smooth husk called behind her.

The Guardia's eyes closed briefly before she murmured, "Perseus." Strolling from the entrance came a lanky, black cat, a gold chained necklace with a jade locket hanging from his neck. He chuckled before pouncing onto the stone edge, gleaming yellow eyes with red veins meeting pale ones.

"Loyal Perseus," the tom corrected, "After all, the titles do count for something." The woman merely rolled her eyes, a small smirk playing her lips.

"Alright, alright, _Lord_ Perseus," she drawled hesitantly, much to his amusement.

"That's all I ask for."

"And the fish the traders bring," she murmured quietly, eyes still focused on the sky. Perseus followed suit, his bright gaze flicking along the streams of stars and constellations. To himself, he caught the Big Dipper before moving towards the north star. His ears pointed at the Madam once she breathed softly, mind travelling further than the stone balcony.

Picking up a black paw, the tom dragged his tongue across his toes before roughly rubbing them against his forehead, ears pointing back anxiously. "Madam?" he asked softly, his hair prickling uncomfortably once his thoughts mirrored those of the woman beside him, "What troubles you?"

"Many things," she muttered grimly, eyes surveying the scattered bodies below as they dragged themselves back towards the town. "Why do the bow?" she growled, "It's not like I gave birth to their mothers or any other shit."

Perseus' nose crinkled at the mild language he had grown accustomed to before replying simply with, "Well, they think very highly of you. After all, your forces bring good luck to them."

"But it also brings great misfortune," she sighed wearily. The cat bowed his head in agreement, the crooked tip of his tail twitching.

"Do you miss Sir Oliver, Madam?" Perseus tried once more, yellow eyes flickering back towards the bruixa. She merely shook her head, a soft 'no' coming from her lips. "I know you lie Madam," he drawled sincerely, "Though I understand what you mean... I miss them both, even if the little rascal broke my favorite knife."

"Sure," she chuckled fondly, "Though it is King Oliver now, isn't it? Besides, I cannot raise a child either. Not here where I need to stay." He turned his attention slowly towards the corner of the stone edge, eyes falling on a small, rough carving of an 'I.' His tail swished rhythmically as his mind reeled back to the image of a small, pale, brunette haired boy with his sharp dagger in small hands at the very corner. Perseus closed his eyes briefly before craning his attention to the full, gleaming moon.

He cleared his throat before mumbling, "But what truly troubles you now? What brings you out here?"

"You're a sharp warlock Pers- Loyal Perseus," she eyed his momentary glare, "You can figure it out."

Within a few seconds he hissed, "The East King." The bruixa nodded solemnly, bending down further as she rested her forearms on the smooth, grey surface. "It is a good thing he hasn't attacked as often as he had before."

"But he has done so with more brute force," she sneered menacingly, "We were lucky last time in the forest with the mass of giants against us and the hunters stumbling in." With ears pinned to the back of his head, Perseus shook his head grimly.

"What was the name of the lead huntsman again?" he questioned, tilting his attention up towards the woman.

Pale eyes close momentarily before she growled, "Vernon...Vernon Kingsley III."

"The same you gave the Craftsman Knife?" he mumbled, receiving a slow nod. "You chose well, Madam. I must admit I couldn't see past his small frame but he's done wonders with it," the tom commented. The breeze sifted between them, blanketing a light silence over the two. Once Perseus had felt that enough time droned on, he whispered, "Funny how most full-blood human festivities are during the full moon."

The Madam nodded slowly before adding, "They won't sleep as soundly than if there was no moon. The light brings out the coward nature within them, so they must be active for other predators."

"And yet they are dangerous," the cat hummed to himself.

"Perhaps it would be _because_ of their fear," she breathed, adding, "Of course, it's not like any other humans aren't dangerous."

The black tom tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing out of curiosity. "Are you suggesting that witches of all kinds and warlocks are more dangerous?"

"You don't doubt it," she growled pointedly, "And yes. Given the situation, any full-blood human would look weak in a corner of a dungeon than another being. Remember, just because we aren't full humans, Perseus, doesn't mean we aren't." At that, he chuckled humorously, his small head shaking.

"Though I've traded my human body hundreds of years ago."

"I remember..." Silence crept upon them once again, leaving the shifting breeze to flow between the two. Perseus flicked his long, black tail in concentration, ears pointed behind him. Focusing his blank stare along the trees below, he strained his ears before steps echoed along the corridor.

"Madam! Madam! Trouble in the throne room! Madam!" the bellowing voice boomed frantically, spinning both the cat and the bruixa around. Panting heavily, the standing lion with heavy chain armor leaned against the stone wall, eyes closed furiously. "Madam," he coughed, dark eyes blinking, "Trouble in the throne room..."

The Madam's brows furrowed, pale eyes narrowing in concern. "What is it? What's the matter Apophis?"

The lion creature, Apophis, stood abruptly before shaking his black mane to a bow. "There's an entity in the dungeons; several of them... We managed to get rid of most but some fled to the forest and one in your room."

"Why wasn't she notified of this sooner?" Perseus bristled, pupils forming to slits.

"Calm down," Apophis muttered wearily, "I was sent immediately but I got sidetracked on the way- you know how big this damned dungeon is." The large cat turned his gaze towards the bruixa before murmuring, "The entity has your jade in mind, Madam. Means to steal I think..."

She nodded slowly, whisking her strides through the entrance before gliding down the steps, the black cat at her heel. With his nose up high, nostrils flaring, Perseus grimaced through a scowl. "What do you smell Loyal?" the Madam growled quietly, sharp features illuminated from the torches lining the stone brick walls.

"Charcoal," he hissed menacingly, "Apophis wasn't lying, this place is surrounded by entities." Yellow eyes lingered behind them, the bigger cat striding with his iron mallet in his hands.

The lion merely nodded, dark eyes darting back and forth. "Or was," he added, large canines flashing slowly, "Khnum said something about most escaping through the pipes as I sped past." All three startled in their steps, a loud, hiss sounding from the corner. With the mallet gripped firmly in Apophis' hands, yellow eyes bleeding into a glowing red and the Madam's gaze dropped down, the shadow figure stepped from the corner with a huge, sinister grin.

 _"Why hello you rotten bitch,"_ it mocked, _"How about I take care of you?"_ White canines flashed underneath a cold gaze, pale hands forming fists.

"Unlikely," she rasped, eyes flickering towards Perseus. Instead of the small, lankly black cat she found a large, burly lynx with a flaming mane and large jowls beside burnt-out torches. Stepping forward, Perseus hissed thunderously, sparks flying with each step. In an instant he lunged at the shadow, immediately burning the entity's seeming flesh. The creature let out a putrid shriek, ignoring the bounding strides of the Madam and Apophis. She grimaced at the cracking of - what she had assumed to be - bone behind her, her spine tingling uncomfortably.

Passing right through multiple halls and striding down several flights of stairs, the three - once Perseus had caught up in a different form - managed to meet long rows of red carpet and long tapestries which hung on the walls. "Help! Help in the armory!" a high call echoed through the dungeons, halting the Madam, Apophis and Perseus in their steps. Twisting around the corner came a wide-eyed rabbit, screeching to a sudden halt once his head popped around the corner. Eyes darted nervously towards the black cat, who stood with teeth bared as a small serval, a dark shadowy mist rolling off of his back, ears and limbs. "By the gods, Perseus!" the rabbit hissed anxiously, "You scared the devil out of me!"

"What do you mean you need help in the armory?" the black cat roared impatiently, growling distastefully at the rabbit. "Jason-Fleece, answer me!"

"Entities! Whole swarm of them in the armory- trying to bring the ceiling down!" Jason peeped.

"Go with him," the Madam ordered the Loyal, "They may need help."

"Sounds like it," Perseus muffled, bowing down to allow the rabbit upon his back before sprinting away quickly. Briefly brushing away some ashes left on her shoulder, the Madam led the standing lion towards the largest and deepest chamber of the dungeons. With few torches lighting the darkened halls, her robe elegantly swayed with her strides, still managing to hug her body. Halting at the large, oak doors, pale hands lingered at the shelf which stood beside it. Her eyes narrowed momentarily at a large, stone chair beside the hall, which stood empty.

With growls and hisses coming from behind the doors, the bruixa grimaced uncomfortably as she slid black, leathered gauntlets on her wrists, sharp metal slates attached to the back. Once her fingers flexed themselves, pale eyes momentarily darting as Apophis slid quietly into the room, her left thumbed over six gems welded onto the inside of the right gauntlet. With a hand held out, she turned her gaze towards the nearest torch. The fire flickered hesitantly before flowing unceremoniously to her grasp, a tattered ball of fire climbing up her forearm like a mane.

Her steps crept towards the door before she slipped in just as Apophis had. Immediately her eyes widened - rather annoyed than worried - at the sight of the large, shadowed creature in the corner. The Madam reached her arm back before lunging forward, fire blasting towards the creature. The entity quickly darted from the standing lion and another Loyal. "Made it just in time Madam," the large, grey wolf called in a deep husk, "I'm not sure we would've held out for so long."

"Why not, Set?" she asked through a hiss, the shadow figure speeding towards her. She gruffly jumped back, her hand coming to a fist before swinging forward while one of the stones of her gauntlet burned mildly. A stone plate from the shadows of the room bashed into the entity's neck. It let out a muffled shriek, staggering towards the side with its face in its hands. "What _has_ taken you so long?"

Amber eyes closed as he breathed before opening wearily. "That one's more powerful than you think. I swear, I threw it at the ceiling and against the wall but it still is movin'." Though, as Apophis twisted around, mallet meeting the side of the shadow's head, Set admitted, "But I think you could take him easily. Dealt with 'em before right?"

The Madam merely nodded, her eyes meeting the entity's. Pale eyes narrowed grimly towards pure white before the shadow's eyes widened, head darting around the room; there was no Madam to be seen. The standing lion and wolf took their opportunity, their skulls buzzing once the Madam had disappeared, lunging towards the entity in a brawl.

Shifting quietly in the shadows, the bruixa felt another gem cool down, all three pairs of eyes blinking rapidly feet from her as the sensation had left their system. The entity lashed out, purposefully sending both Loyals to the shadows of the other side. Two loud, thunderous smacks sounded against the wall, promptly echoing throughout the room and the hall outside the doors. With the creaking of joints, the entity pushed itself from the ground, head swiftly surveying the room, a sinister smirk forming as it glazed over the two slumped figures against the long, covered tapestry.

 _"Where are you bruixa?"_ it hissed its taunt quietly. Teeth clenched, the Madam darted forward, the high corner gem of her gauntlet burning as her left hand cracked white sparks. The entity spun around, eyes wide once she lunged with the ball of cracking light through its chest. It twisted and squirmed, a hideous scream flowing past it's teeth. It jerked suddenly, black claws holding her fist tightly, not allowing it to pull out from its body. Within a moment, however, it shuddered as it cackled, its ravenous voice echoing in the Madam's ears. _"We've got you now Madam Guardia-West of the Oestemoor Dungeons..."_

Pale eyes widened, her spine tingling uncomfortably as the shadow creature's body flashed in a blinding light, a dark shadow following. Guardia-West let out a short yell, her eyes suddenly burning while her limbs felt stiff. She staggered back and forth, her uncoordinated strides falling towards the wall. She cringed as she opened her eyes, the four lanterns hanging from the ceiling out, basking her in the darkened room. Her head swiveled to the side as distant steps echoed softly in the black void.

Her body jerked at the sudden noise, sounding as if stone grinded against stone from the center of the room. The bruixa felt a surge of heat in her, fists balling while teeth clenched menacingly. At the sudden, angry war-cry behind her, she let out one of her own, the room suddenly becoming engulfed with a fiery light. The torches along the room gushed fire as if each one was fed a pile of dry leaves, unceasing. The torches began to scorch the stone walls while the hanging lanterns vibrated from the monstrous flames.

Her eyes grew into a dark green as she swiped at the burly shadow figure storming towards her. She grimaced at the soft 'snip,' the figure immediately falling back, hands over its face, howling in a sudden pain. The Madam glanced down at the floor, a white ball rolling with a red string towards the center of the room. Another shadow with dark, gleaming eyes pounced at her. Instinctively, she brought a wave of fire form the torches above her, sending it towards the chest of the beast. The features were distorted; long teeth bared as fur singed, the shadow mass hissing.

The Madam gave a quick glance towards the center of the room, a long, open stone box waiting patiently. Ducking beneath an uncoordinated swipe, her legs lashed out at the figure, promptly knocking it down. Gems burned at her forearm as wooden crates at the corner lifted themselves, fire blanketing them before her arms gestured towards the ceiling lanterns. The shadows quickly darted from the center of the room, pushing the stone box as the lanterns, crates and fire crashed at the floor.

Hurling herself towards the figures, she felt her back and inked wrist twitch, black smoke masking her body. Three eyes gleamed menacingly at her, the first shadow clutching its right eye. "You're gonna pay for my eye you whore!" it screeched through a whimper.

 _"Then how about you don't attack me?"_ she hummed through an inhuman husk, her voice masked with an animalistic growl. Both figures yelled in retaliation before Guardia-West launched herself towards the two, the shadow of a long monster clashing with two other shadows dancing beside her. However, her claw never made their way to the to shadows' throats as the walls trembled anxiously, small parts of the ceiling falling. Just above her, a loose brick slid from its place, crushing against her spine.

Immediately, she bit back a yelp, her body wriggling away before ramming herself against the stone box. "Now!" a voice bellowed, thunderous steps barging towards her. Once again the bruixa lashed out, effectively clipping the second figure's arm. It howled at the pain as the first swung, knocking the side of her head. As her limbs trembled, the dark mist that had masked her body dissipating, she grimaced, eyes falling on the box beside her. Brows stitched themselves together at the scrawled lines along the rim.

She blinked rapidly, her body moving groggily at the one, or two, then one, boxes in the center of the room. The bruixa twisted over at the sudden cries and yells outside, metal clashing against metal. The two figures lunged forward, her right gauntlet maneuvering to cover her head. All noises rang in her ears while everything in sight began to spin and turn.

Claws swiped at her arm, sending three searing lines against the uncovered flesh before several stones clattered against the ground. She whimpered a growl before the two shadows were upon her. The Guardia twitched and kicked in their miraculous grasps, nails digging into her arms before shoving her into the box. Her estranged cry was muffled against the dark interior before she turned her gaze up.

Six shadows stood before her, surrounding the long casket. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, hands gripping the stone that brushed uncomfortably against her skin. In one fist, five grasped varying lights in color which bled from between their fingers. Over one shoulder there was a long blade with cracks of dark, blood red light seeping through. Five pairs of white eyes - and then the lone one - stared down unblinking before one at the very end reached for the lid.

With a loud smash, it closed. All the Madam could see from then on was black.


	2. Part I: Dungeons of Oestemoor - The Lord's Request

_ **No One's Perspective** **-** _

_Metal clinked as it bobbled over her head, the skinny frame jogging with giggles that echoed through the helm. The small girl staggered away from the bucket and rags left abandoned against the wall, food still in splotches on sandstone brick. With a quick gasp, her strides were cut short as her lanky limbs tripped over themselves, sending her right to the dirt ground. As a small groan passed her lips, her hands clasped the cool metal around her head before pulling the helmet off, long brunette hair falling to her lower back - though it had brushed the sand on the ground at that time._

_White teeth flashed as dark eyes glimmered excitedly, small caramel hands holding the worn helmet. The sun's reflection winked at the long bangs which covered her right eye, dipping near her strong cheekbones as she giggled once again. Just as her fingers ran along the rim of the metal, a voice bellowed behind her crossly. "Tori! Why hasn't this been cleaned yet?"_

_In a quick instant, the girl stood up abruptly, holding the helmet behind her back while eyes stared obediently at the folded arms before her. "I- uh..." she stammered, brushing the long locks from her left eye, "I want to train...and not clean the food..." The woman merely rolled her eyes, unimpressed, before shaking her messy, grey streaked bun._

_"Well you should have thought of that before-" the woman spun around, ripping a short, wooden cane from its casual position against the wall, "-you bludgeoned a girl's eye with this!" Tori grimaced at the red stain at the very end, shuffling a step or two back with her left hand raised._

_"I said I was sorry...I didn't mean to- we were training and she came too close and I just-"_

_"And what?" the woman spat sternly, "Tori, you know she was no match for you!"_

_The child only groaned tiredly, rubbing her eyes while the cane was propped back in its place. "She's eleven years older than me..." she mumbled under her breath, dark eyes surveying the ground._

_The woman scoffed before shaking her head, "Still, you should know better with that strength and reflexes of yours, even if you are only seven."_

_"But I said I was sorry," Tori whined again._

_"If you were truly sorry," the woman sighed wearily, snatching the wooden bucket and rags from the wall and strode towards the girl, "Then clean the mess." The girl slowly nodded, her bare feet trekking the ground gingerly once she recalled the twenty-three houses she had already cleaned after the 'festival of the pumpkin.' She had only wanted to train for a short while, after all. "Are you going to get to it?"_

_"Yes grandma," Tori mumbled softly, picking up a soaked rag before scratching bits of orange-stringed seeds from the walls. The greying woman nodded in approval before heading back inside, ushering another curious girl through the doorway. As the sun went down gracefully over the low mountains - which only dreamed to brush against the sky - her eyes continuously wondered to her side, eyes following the waves of the ocean near the black, rocky beach. Each time she would snatch her gaze towards the pumpkin on the wall._

_One by one the food had fallen from the sandstone bricks, leaving a clean house to its former glory. Pleased with herself, she heaved the heavy bucket to the side, dumping the murky water before leaving the supplies near the door. Striding through the doorway, she turned her attention to the one main room which held three beds to the longest wall on the left of her, a fireplace opposite and short chairs with a table alongside the small, rusted kitchen. As her feet shuffled, three heads turned towards the door, small smiles forming. "Have you finished?" the grandmother asked._

_"Yeah, I did..." Tori nodded._

_"Well, the sun met the waters; it's time for grandma's story," the younger woman grinned, standing beside the candle-lit oven. "That right?" As a reply, the eldest only nodded before shifting in her wooden chair._

_The girl in front of the grandma, her features not as sharp as the girl who sat beside her, asked anxiously, "What's the story tonight gran' ma?"_

_"How about the 'Banished Princess of the Inferno Kingdom?'" Tori grinned cheekily, eyes widening in anticipation while the other sighed, back slumping._

_"Back straight if you want to be a maiden Trina!" the younger woman snapped from the kitchen, immediately raising her back._

_Brushing off the comment, despite her body's reaction, she muttered, "But we've heard this one a thousand and a bunch of times."_

_"But I like it," Tori growled before looking back at her grandma._

_"Alright, settle down you two, let's get started," dark eyes twinkled down at the two who both settled in their seats, whether or not their words rang true from before. "Alright, hundreds of years ago there was a great kingdom who lived on, with and for fire. Everything they did had dealt with fire in one shape or form. Now, the last king had two children, a son and a daughter. Both loved to battle with swords and shields in order to protect themselves against monsters and demons. Some say that they were a family with gifts, though others deny that their pure, human blood could be tainted with vile venom - since the culture hated anything that went too far from human nature._

_"Well, besides the swords and shields, the princess spent her time by the shore, playing her violin. What an interesting instrument it was with that bow and strings. Nobody had seen it before other than the highest of royalty. Though she played it beautifully with her voice. The kingdom could just listen to her music as she played to herself. Many said that she was very bright, able to think through any problems with music at the front of her mind. Her brother, too, played though his focus was more on taking on the throne, even if he was the younger sibling. All was good, then, until one stormy night..._

_"Because of the rain that fell, all the lanterns that stood proudly before the castle had burned out, unable to be lit until the storm passed. Lightening flashed as thunder clapped against the earth, sending the citizens home. However, footsteps still padded their way through the dirt paths, marching its way towards the castle. Worry grew over the homes, eyes widening in fear. The beast stood as high as their buildings, eyes gleaming proudly while fangs sunk in front of its jowls. Its mane almost followed it like a black mist, sending the fear of darkness into the villages' souls-"_

_"Nothing can be that big," a voice scoffed, interrupting the story._

_"Trina!" Tori snapped, glaring at her sister while the grandmother merely chuckled._

_"Anyway girls," her voice rang, "As it trudged across the bridge, the soldiers at the top of the walls sat waiting with their cowards' weapon. Arrows began to ping off of its back, not fazing the great beast as it knocked down the towering doors. Many speculate that the beast killed the king and queen in their sleep, as the bodies were found in their bed. The brother, too, had perished, leaving only the princess. Instead of killing her, however, the beast made a deal. He took her songs and music in order to give her life. She agreed and handed it her violin before watching the wood smash against the wall._

_"In a blinding fury, she made to attack the beast, only for it to take over her. It consumed her, distorting her features before she fled the castle as a smaller, yet more dangerous threat. The kingdom walls had always protected everything against the flames, everything... Though, as fate have it, the city was burned to the ground, only a few peasants and a farmer escaping. To this day, nobody knows for sure what had happened to the princess. Many say she died shortly thereafter, or is still alive, waiting to come across another city to burn. And each year, she does."_

_The oldest sibling rolled her eyes, head shaking softly before she mumbled, "I don't see how she was banished." The grandmother nodded solemnly in agreement, though her attention was drawn towards the fireplace behind her as the flames flickered insistently._

_"Grandma has said that the story probably changed from its original form," Tori murmured before adding, "But I still like it."_

_"So basically it's about a spoiled princess becoming a lunatic and then kills everyone?" Instead of answering, Tori merely pursed her lips glaring at her beloved sister._

_Trina stood from the rug, dusting her skirt off, gazing down at her sister's tattered shorts and shirt. "See? You can't argue with the truth... What's there to like about the story? A beast goes into the town and burns the kingdom down!"_

_"I liked the princess and her bravery," the youngest mumbled, her limbs creaking as she stood, eyes falling to her sister's neck. Trina merely sighed before she shuffled her way towards the younger woman, making an effort to help with the food._

_"Bravery? For taking on a beast that wasn't even there?" she called stubbornly from the kitchen._

_"Don't mind her," the old woman spoke humbly, "Her mind isn't built like yours Tori." The young girl nodded, briefly exhaling deeply before she stood, stock still. Slowly, a smile crept across her face before she bolted out of the house, head swiveling around to the village entrance. She wasn't even fazed by Trina's call for her to get back in the house, or her mother's slap on her sister's wrist; she was only determined to scamper along the main road were the steps of warriors coming home. She beamed excitedly, sprinting to join a few other fellow children._

_Constantly she made to stand on her tip-toes, only to fall back onto her hind end._ 'Why can't they just calm down so I can see?' _her thoughts pestered. Biting her bottom lip, Tori jumped quickly, grinning at the sight of the battered, scorched, shining helmets. As she landed, a groan passed her lips briefly before she scowled, jumping as the lanky boy in front stepped back._

_"Oh!" he jumped, twisting around. "Sorry Greeny, didn't see you there," he joked, earning a soft smile._

_"It's alright Jay," Tori nodded, rubbing her now red toe, "Hey...isn't that your uncle over there?"_

_A small frown crossed the dark boy's lips, his head swiveling around. "Uncle Scott!" he yelped, his limbs making their way towards the man quickly. Both embraced, having to move with the line filing towards their individual homes. Tori smiled, her gaze lingering over the two._

_However, once her eyes went back to searching through the marching soldiers, flicking between all of the faces, her smile dropped into worry. One older man groaned weakly, stumbling in between two men's arms, eyes drooping down to his bloodied stump for a left leg. "Kill me... Just get it over with dammit," he wept._

_"We're getting you to the doctor," the left man soothed through a croak, "Come on pa, you can do it." Shaggy white hair merely shook miserably, sending the girl's young gaze quickly away. Another man, not far older than her mother, clutched his shoulder with clenched teeth; a small, broken stick had been plunged by a coward's weapon - Tori knew - aiming right for his heart or neck. There were too many. Too many had scorched skin that blistered even in the rising moon's light. There was too much dried blood on the worn armor and torn clothes that shone in the torches' light spanning across the dirt road._

_Her gut knotted gruesomely as her throat tightened, eyes burning. Biting the inside of her cheeks, Tori refused to spill any tear; not until she was sure anyway. Sniffing stubbornly, the tanned girl flicked her gaze around, eyes narrowing to find metal situated without a helm on his head. Focusing on the small sea of glinting helmets, Tori squinted, not taking note of the children bounding beside her, brushing against her shoulders._

_A smile began to creep along her lips as she found the familiar, scarred battle helmet. Her steps trudged through the small crowd of little kids, all squirming - just like her - to get to their family. She laughed, finding that he was all in one piece. "Pa!" she shouted excitedly, snatching her father's attention._

_"Greeny!" he smiled, widening his broad shoulders as he crouched down, accepting her embrace. "How are you my child? Have you been staying out of trouble for the most part?"_

_"Uh..." she drawled, a blush warming her cheeks, "Kind of."_

_"Tori," her father raised a brow sternly, a soft grin playing his lips despite the fact. He stood, grunting as Tori climbed onto his shoulders, holding his firm hands. "You like the view up there?" he asked, chuckling._

_"I feel like I'm on a ship!" she giggled._

_"Come on...let's dock home then," he murmured, his steps branching from the rest of the crowd towards the sandstone house. The warm light from the candles inside never felt so welcoming..._

Dark, rusted eyes blinked open, narrowing from the sun casting its bright, yellow light along the stone room. The young woman grimaced as she sat up groggily, her fingers pressing against long scars as she cracked her back. Tori, several years older now, turned her head to the side, blinking dully at the mirror in the corner of the room then to the blackened chest plate hanging from a wooden chair. She stretched her nimble legs before feet touched the ground.

From the bedpost she snatched a cloth shirt, tugging it over her head. Tori gave a quick glance outside the window, the yellow orb just peaking from the reaching mountains. With a ghost of a smile, she continued to dress herself, eventually sitting on the straw bed with a long, two-handed sword by her side, her chest plate and long, brown cloak over her shoulders. She flexed her fingers on her left hand, a worn, metal gauntlet across her forearm. As she busied herself, adjusting the metal leg-guards that nearly reached her knees, the birds just outside the window chirped quietly, welcoming the coming day.

Satisfied with how everything had fit that morning, Tori slid the sword to her left side where it rested comfortably in its hilt. She took her knotted string left on the pillow just before leaving, remembering to fit her long, brunette hair into a long ponytail that reached between her shoulder blades.

Her strides swept quietly down the halls, as they always had, her mind on the morning's chatter in the inn's pub. The atmosphere - as one might assume to be in the morning - was humble, every person keeping to themselves the majority of the time while dining on their dry meals. Seating herself in the musty room along the bar, Tori folded her arms, keeping an ear out for any conversations. "What will it be this morning ma'am," came a rough, feminine voice, "Some liquor?"

"No thank you," she grumbled softly, "Just a biscuit and some cream would do nicely." The barmaid nodded, dashing towards the back to prepare the small meal. Tori flicked her fingers across the bar, eyes drooping down on the stained wood. She padded around her belt, grasping a small canteen before taking a quick swig, grimacing; she never favored warm water. "Thank you," she mumbled, watching as a dry, hot biscuit and a small tin bowl of cream made its way on a small, wooden platter.

"Five shillings," the barmaid muttered, her eyes on Tori's maroon, bloodied sack beside the canteen. Nodding quietly, she reached over, taking a quarter of her money left before handing it across the bar.

As she began to indulge herself in the crumbling bread, her attention became drawn to the table right behind her. "-ease, we need to have someone go down in that damned dungeon and kill the beast! It has swept havoc on our small city ever since the- where are you going?" a man's voice quivered, "You're a mighty man. We need help, I've traveled for five days and four nights just to get here! I've heard of you- Blaston! Come on."

"I don't do dungeons, Lord Mortimer, so go and find yourself another warrior," a gruff voice growled, heavy steps making their way towards the door.

"But you were my last option! I'll pay anything that I can muster," the man weakly replied. As he sighed miserably, sitting back down at his chair, Tori twisted around, just able to see the back of black wolf skin along broad shoulders exit the pub. Her eyes narrowed at the floor in thought, glancing once or twice up at the rising sun through the wall openings.

"I have time..." she mumbled to herself, shoving the last, dipped piece of biscuit and cream in her mouth. Gulping down the rest of the food, she maneuvered her way to the table, standing to the side. "Uh, lord is it?" Tori started, grabbing his attention.

His grey eyes flicked up and down her in interest, his gaze lingering over her two-handed blade. Lord Mortimer quickly grommed is light, blonde wry hair before turning his knobbing wrists. He was a very skinny man - as Tori saw - though he looked to be very sharp. "What sword is that?" he asked quietly, nodding towards the blade.

She glanced down at it, chuckling slightly. "It was crafted by an Elken blacksmith a spell ago."

"You mean about a century ago?" he raised his brow, a small smirk forming along his lips. She merely bowed her head respectfully as an answer, the lord gesturing towards the seat opposite of him. Tori sat down gingerly, her dark eyes flicking over at the man as he itched his large nose. "Now why do you speak to me little girl? Who are you?"

"Firstly," she smiled gently, "I'm not a little girl...however I may look to be-"

"How old? You don't look a day over seventeen," he murmured, offering a compliment.

"A decade older," she answered humbly, "Anyway, I am Tori Vega-Bellator, a simple bounty huntress."

The lord nodded with an interest filtering through his eyes, lips pursing as his hand rubbed his soft beard. "What an interesting mix...a bounty huntress and a-" his eyes widened, "Beg my pardon, I do apologize for your people."

"It's quite alright," she bowed her head. "So, what about a dungeon?"

"Ah, yes," the lord chuckled, grooming his small beard, "You see, for centuries now the ruler of the dungeons and the forest around has attacked our city, making it almost impossible to trade. Do you know Maytredsworth?" The huntress nodded, having a few assignments beforehand in the city. Though, she had ought to not inform the man before her. "Yes. It's quite an old city, especially the structures in the center of it just forth of the dungeon. Now, it's going to be quite the difficult task. All of our best have attempted to kill the beast though never was able to make it out. And so- wait a moment, how am I certain that you can handle such a thing, _bounty huntress_?"

Dark eyes narrowed at Lord Mortimer, his own grey eyes flashing at her. Tori knew full well that he was testing her, using her own occupation as a slur; it wouldn't have been the first time. Instead her lips grew to a humorless smile, her words biting, "I've seen things you wouldn't even imagine, not even the times that you feared the worst for your child. Now, I have gone through several dungeons and strongholds before. Explain to me why this one is different."

He nodded carefully, not wanting to actually drive away the potential help. "This one is the most beautifully crafted and yet most dangerous dungeons within Maytredsworth and around. Now that I think about it, it may even be the first built."

"What do you mean?" Tori folded her hands quietly, dark eyes searching through grey.

"You've never heard of it? The Oestemoor Dungeons, my friend. That is what is our trouble," he growled softly.

Gears clicked and turned in the back of her head, eyes closing as she finally understood. She had heard of these dungeons briefly from time to time among whispers of a crowd. Though the legends around it was distorted, changing from person to person when she _had_ asked what was said. Though few details remained the same: it sat within a great mountain, the town just at its steps grew to be powerful and feared, and the dungeon remained to be a treasure to be searched and ran-sacked.

Those were the details she had acquired anyway. Not much - the hunter knew that much from her previous times in other dungeons - but it was very telling on its own. "So why do you need my hand in this then? Anybody's at least," her eyes flicked open, resting on the lord.

"It's the beast that rules it. Our small community within the woods before it can't handle the countless attacks, the spirits in the woods nor the constant disappearances within its chambers," he started wearily, feeling the weight of the trouble sink in, "Dark figures often snatch those before they wake, forcing them to the ground prematurely. No one has been able to actually destroy the beast, let alone catch a glimpse... As far as we know anyhow."

"Alright," Tori came to her decision, "I will do it."

"Do you offer a price?" Lord Mortimer leaned forward, eyes wide and almost gleeful.

She nodded slowly, feeling the rather light coin pouch by her side. "Not too much, would about a thousand shillings be enough?"

"A _thousand_ shillings?" his eyes popped, mouth hanging open. The huntress felt her cheeks warm, darting her gaze about the pub, few of the guests around raising a brow. "My word girl! _Only_ a thousand shillings? For the centuries that the dungeon has been an issue you only ask for a thousand?"

"Uh, y-yeah," she stammered, "I don't need much."

"Blimey, a thousand? The least that can be given is ten thousand," he shook his head. "Though, alright... I can see you aren't bound to a home. A thousand shillings and a fine steed for you girl, that will be all."

She bowed her head gratefully, thankful that the man wasn't oblivious. "Thank you lord, I will honor this trust greatly."

"Shall we be on our way then? It is quite the journey," the lord uncrossed his legs, gripping the sides of the chair.

Tori nodded before muttering, "After I have finished with the business that brought me here. Shall we meet each other back here once the sun reaches the mountains?" The man sighed, rubbing his whispery chin. His hand was brought out towards hers in agreement. Tori leaned forward, giving the lord a firm shake before quickly striding out of the door, pulling her hood.

**. . .**

Dark eyes drifted from under her hood, glowering at every little thing that had made any noise. Her eyes shifted towards the edge of the shadows she stalked silently in, awaiting for _anything_ to come along the trail just a foot from her ledge. She felt her breathing sharpen as she shifted within the crack of the mountain, her expression forming a slight wince. Her chest plate scratched slightly, ringing in her ears. Just to the side of the trail, she knew, led to nothing but a drop down to the heavy forests below.

Quietly, the hunter clambered to a crouch, sitting rather more comfortably down where the rocks had been weathered more. With her firm grip ready on her blade, Tori waited patiently for what was supposed to come. _'That old bastard had better be right about this or I'll just be down West,'_ her thoughts growled. It wasn't her favorite way of doing things, taking a person's word for it, though the man had been visited by her target several times.

Her eyes lingered over the border walls that had protected this city, the said 'old bastard' surely walking along the long corridors to his station. The huntress exhaled rather softly, her eyes lingering on the ground for a moment. They followed small ants as they crawled along in a line, going from one side to the other.

"Get moving now! We don't have any time to waste you ass!" a booming voice shook her briefly, switching her attention towards the side. With a small, quiet smile creeping along her face, she watched as the top of a carriage which rattled with chains shot passed, hooves thundering against the ground. In a quick instant, Tori slithered up the crack, her hands firmly grasping the rock before leaping down quietly to the trail. The road curved around the mountain, the target moving away quickly.

Growling quietly, she sprinted off. As usual, she was thankful to have her nimble limbs be quick and steady, unceasing in their sways. Another grin flashed across her lips as the steeds bucked, nearly tripping over themselves at the blocked path, huge logs laying along the road. "Move it you bastards!" the voice spat once again, bouncing off the of the great, natural point. Climbing from the back of the carriage, three burly men scurried forth, attempting to move to clear the path.

A fourth, having been stalled within the vehicle, hopped out, his black eyes swerving abruptly towards the cloaked figure now striding ahead, blade in her hand. "Your highness!" he squeaked, "It's the bounty hunter the guard warned you about!"

 _'Of course,'_ she mentally seethed, casting a glare towards the border walls, _'I'll deal with him later.'_

From the shadows of the wooden, barred box climbed out a tall, broad-shouldered man. He stretched his shoulders, a dark sword with shallow cracks lining the metal alike veins. His pale skin almost gleamed in the sunlight, greying emerald eyes staring sharply at the huntress with no remorse of mercy flowing through them. His hair, a brow just as light as the dirt bathed in the sun was, fell over his ears in small waves. On his chin sat a pointed beard, twisting at the tip.

"Ah, welcome then," his sinister smirk presented a cracked canine, "I presume you want me dead?"

"Not a dull knife you are," Tori answered calmly.

He merely chuckled knowingly, pulling out his sword as if it was a toy stick. "Sure I am, I haven't been caught by any others, no matter how hard they had tried to go forth with their efforts," he boasted, turning the blade over and over. "Though," he admitted, "You are not a dull knife either. Not one that will live, surely, though one that isn't dull. You will die today sharp." He twisted around, eyes blaring at the other four. "Stay back! I'll deal with this swine quickly," he spat before abruptly lashing forward, his blade dashing to the right of the huntress.

In a quick instant, both hands gripped the long blade, clashing it against the hilt of his own, dark eyes flashing grimly. He sneered down at her, though his hands shook from the tension between the two weapons. Tori flicked her sword, sending him to the wall of the mountain, shaking in annoyance. With a snarl he bounded up to her once more, attempting to launch her over the cliff's edge. Though - the huntress smirked victoriously - he hadn't caught on to her speed. She darted towards the side quickly, growling herself once the tip of her sword caught to the hilt of the target's.

Jerking away, she stumbled towards the wall, smacking right against it as he turned around. He bared his white teeth as the dark blade in his hands began to surge, white-red filling the cracks running along it. "You are no match for this sword," he snapped, hurling the blade randomly towards her head. She rolled her eyes, ducking down where the weapon was caught in the running, loose stones in the wall.

In several attempts to free his tool, the man nearly missed the hurtling kick to his side, which had sent him down even if it didn't hit the knee. With green eyes wide with shock, the man stumbled up, throwing himself towards his sword as Tori swerved, barely missing his fist. He yanked once, twice and three times at the blade, though the huntress knew her game would be caught soon. Her blade swiped towards his shoulder, however a quick foot took the blow, knocking her finest weapon out of her hands.

Growling as he went back to his efforts, the blade now wobbling with the rocks, she whipped out her knife which had rested along her belt. In a flash the man staggered back, his arm pressed against his shoulder. "Damn you bitch!" he snarled venomously, trekking forward as her hand gripped the dark sword's hilt. With one quick heave she pulled the weapon free. It was such an interesting one at that. The light that had just shone from it before had died out. It was light, very light and yet the edge looked thick enough to handle anything against it. There were scratches all along the rim of it; she could make out some words scrawled into the metal. _'Raven's Blade_ _...heads all...wield...power...'_

Her brows furrowed, the blade distracting her attention from the bellowing call. Once steps crunched all around her, dark eyes widened, flaming with a flash of light like coals in a fire. The huntress clenched her jaw as she twisted around, the sword - as she mentally deemed it the 'Raven's Blade' - now almost pumping with a deep blood red flowing through the cracks. It felt almost hot in her hands like adrenaline as she swiped, backing away the cowardly men.

Dirt crunched behind her, sending her glare over her shoulder. With the hood hanging from the back of her neck, the man saw the deadly fire in her doe eyes, halting in his movements. His heart beat rapidly against his chest as she hurled herself towards her in a blinding fury, not willing to accept any target to catch her back. He writhed with a small blade in his hands, constantly ducking and dashing back and forth with her quick swipes. Her reflexes were impenetrable, unlike his gut which allowed the dark blade to sink into.

He whimpered through a growl, his eyes lingering on the heated ones in front of him. His hands clutched the blade, attempting to pull it out as Tori backed away, darkening eyes gazing at him intently. There were always those few who had tried their hardest to escape their fate, even if she did pity them. However, as his shifty eyes made their way towards the huntress, she decided none was given to him.

"Damn you to internal fire, bitch," he snarled, his feet scuffing against the ground. He gasped, however, green eyes darting behind him just in time to watch the ground below come closer to him, eventually burying his body under the treetops below.

"I wasn't paid to slay any of you but I'd run just to be sure," she growled, casting a quick glance over her shoulder. The four men nodded quickly scampering over the logs and down the trail. Tori rolled her eyes; she found them to be utter fools. Sliding her own weapon in her sheath and then holding the knife in her hands, she made her way into the carriage, finding a cage. In it was a skinny, lanky boy with curled brown as his hair, blue eyes staring out past his locks.

In a quick flash she slashed through the rusted chain that held the door together, the old metal easily breaking away. "I didn't expect it to break that quickly," his voice came out gravelly, sending chills down the huntress' spine. "Though they did leave it in the rain with me. Anyway," he clambered out, joining Tori, "thank you for saving me."

"Of course," she murmured, giving a small grin to the tall boy, "My pleasure."

"What's your name?" he asked, following her with his belt slung from his shoulders.

"Tori," she answered, "And yours?" The boy watched quietly as she unlatched the horses from the carriage, petting their necks to keep them calm.

As she dropped the unnecessary straps, he responded with, "Sinjin Van Cleef." The huntress nodded, back against the face of the carriage, grunting as it wheeled back. "What are you doing?" he drawled calmly.

"Getting this over the edge...Why don't you get the logs out of the way? Keep the two there though," she gestured towards the two blonde steeds. Following her order, Sinjin went over, pushing one of the logs loose with a quick heave, eyeing the heavy rocks in the path behind.

"Are you sure you don't need help?" he asked once the rocks were taken care of. With a short kick the logs rolled down the trail easily, falling over the edge once gravity took its course. Tori, meanwhile, still was shoving the carriage closer and closer towards the edge of the cliff. She merely shook her head, teeth gritting as the wheels turned unwillingly. "Why are we getting rid of the wagon?" he crossed his arms as the huntress gave one final push, the vehicle finally falling down the mountain, shattering into many splinters at the bottom.

"It was part of my job," she gave as a gruff answer. He nodded solemnly, keeping up with her quick pace back towards the steeds. Both hoisted themselves up onto them, their hands gripping the reins gingerly as dark eyes swept towards the sun. There was some time, though the horses still went at a slow jog, their bare backs bumping against the huntress and the - now freed - prisoner. They rode in silence for a long while, passing the trees that brushed against the trail as it descended down slowly to ground level. "So how come you were captured?" Tori started curiously.

Sinjin shrugged, lamely stating, "Dunno. They were after some other folk to give to the giants, I think, and I ended up getting caught in the middle of it. I went to go trade with him and he went and shoved me into the cage. I guess my trades weren't good enough."

The two horses slowed to a leisure stroll as she furrowed her brows. "The same giants of Rots-berg?"

"The Berg-Eremiten? Yeah, the same," he answered quietly.

"Damn this war," she whispered throatily, glaring off into the distance. Sinjin quietly agreed, letting the conversation dip back down through his thoughts.

"Tori is it?" Her head bobs to his understanding. "Do you- do you kill often?"

Her dark eyes dropped to her hands, growing in despair at the red stains from the few hours before. "Too much for my conscious and spirit to be considered clean," she finally rasped, dropping the subject all together. The trader pursed his lips as they crossed to the first actual street, buildings surrounding them. Blue eyes watched as she slid off the steed, guiding it towards the bar before she turned around at his short call.

"So will we meet again? You did save me after all," he croaked.

"Perhaps if we run into each other," she bowed respectfully, turning around with the golden stallion lowering his head behind her. As the hooves clapped against the ground, she took a moment to tie the horse to a pole, eyeing it carefully. "Don't spook now," she muttered slowly, "I'll be right back." As a response it merely blinked its brown eyes, giving a short snort. The huntress shuffled against the crowded doorway, slipping in quiet easily once a few others made their way about. Her dark eyes glanced over the pub, snapping immediately to the lord who had his foot tapping against the floor.

Quietly, she made her way towards him as he sipped his liquor tastefully. "Would you care to have some?" he asked, not turning around.

"I don't drink," she muttered rather flatly, warmth growing across her cheeks once she realized how it came across. "Anyway," Tori murmured, brushing it off, "Should we get started? We could make it to the small village by the time the moon comes out above us."

"Alright," he nodded briefly, slamming a few shillings down at the wood, leaving the tin cup behind. Both weaved around the people bustling through the pub. Once outside, Tori found that Lord Mortimer had actually parked his own horse on the side, leaving them to ride off in a rather quick fashion. "So," his horse bowed it's head, eyeing the stallion beside it, "How far about this land have you gone?"

"Quite," she replied, passing the very same buildings she had just gone in from, "Not too far east though certainly the other directions."

As her steed jogged up and along the trail, her eyes momentarily wandered over the roofed forest, the sun just peaking above them. How she wanted to just go back in time to watch the sun rise from the mountains around her home, or through the small window that morning. Oh how she had just wanted to have a quiet moment in her life. Though, she knew, it wouldn't come. The hooves still made their way around, following the trail while she absentmindedly commented with the lord as he did the same, filling the air around them with words just to do it.

Eventually as the sky darkened, the same stone wall that had bordered the forest ahead of the village back, coming across two set of mountains, stood before the two. The lord raised a brow as the huntress slid off her horse, the reins falling onto it's neck before she led it with the bridle. "We don't have to get off," he muttered, confused.

"I know," she growled, eyes searching, "I need to speak with someone- Hey!" Beside the column of stone, holding up the bridge overhead, stood a scrawny man with a short beard with dark grey eyes. He flicked them up in shock, backing into the wall as Tori stormed forward, the stallion trailing behind. She flipped out her knife, holding it out before snapping, "What's the idea of selling me out to them?"

"I- I swear I didn't want to," he whimpered, raising his hands, "He- he was going to kill my kids. They were with me and- please don't hurt me." Dark eyes softened, searching through grey. They were honest, as she concluded with her knife back into the small sheath at her hip. The lord's horse stepped closer, his own grey eyes flicking over the scene. "But di-did you actually kill the prince?"

"Naturally," she nodded.

He breathed a sigh of relief, a small grin forming across his lips. "He's been causing too much trouble during these times..." There were nods in agreement as Tori climbed back up onto the blonde stallions back, making her way towards the other side. "Well, hopefully you'll do more wonders, my friend," the man called out.

"Hopefully," she murmured softly, her heart dropping. And so the lord and the huntress set off into the night, letting the moon bathe them in its light. Constantly Tori's mind strolled off, imagining the possible dangers ahead as she always had done with a new quest. Though her stomach twisted violently, ensuring that her nerves were heightened.

Whatever was to come would be painful, and she knew that too well with her own intuition. She glanced at the weary man beside her, watching how his gaze shifted nervously whenever bushes rustled or a twig snapped. She lingered her stare on the horses which often lolled with the guidance of their riders, occasionally spooking in the night. And as her eyes set forward, she couldn't ignore the hammering heart within her breast as she dwelled on the future.


	3. Part I: Dungeons of Oestemoor - The Dungeon's Tale

_ **No One's Perspective** **-** _

Once she had strode away from the stables, doe eyes lingered towards the palomino stallion set in his stall. He only blinked towards her, dipping his head down to the bucket of grain. A fine steed, as she was promised.

"Tori!"

She whirled around to find the lord scratching his wispy beard, grey eyes gleefully glancing about. Though, once she strode closer, the glee morphed into a hidden anxiety. "Ah, yes," he grinned nonetheless, "before we reach the dungeon, we must discuss the beast and ready you."

"Ah...yes," she nodded. Tori gazed around the small city, her fist firmly around her hilt. Lord Mortimer wrung his wrists in reply, striding briskly through the streets.

"My quarters are not far from the stables, the local one anyway," he murmured, the Bellator only glancing around. Previous bounties had set her within Maytredsworth, there was no question about that, though none of which had brought her into the heart of the trading city. Its cobblestone streets ran to the brinks of twisting rivers, winding green hills with excellent farming mixing with small cottages; she had to bring three men wanted for burglary of several jewels among the homes. Eventually, when the plateaued-cliffs became great walls, tall structures forming several houses within them overlooked the land. They scraped the sky, and while mighty on their own, they merely complimented the extreme heights of the mountain behind them; Tori had to hurl herself along the rooftops in order to slay a rather nasty man, wanted for several murders of sex workers. A forest hugged the tall structures and farmland, and was a successful barrier between the trading city and the original, founded Maytredsworth - excluding the great gate, that is.

The difference between the main city and its heart was vast; while the city stood to outstanding heights, repairs were often needed for the rotting, weathered wood and cracked stones. Within Maytredsworth's original town, the streets and buildings had appeared to have remained the same, only needed repairs every decade.

Lord Mortimer explained to the Bellator that the town itself was older than the ground they stood on, as dirt often was naturally replenished, and that his family was the only surviving line of the original colonists - the Mares. And while overtime his family had lost the name and replaced it with 'Cordelier', the Mares were still ancestors.

His hand gripped the doorknob before it creaked open. "Come inside," Lord Mortimer jerked his chin, Tori glancing up at the impressive, columned building. The door was shut behind her, the scrawny man shuffling inside. "This, uh... This was and always has been the Lord's quarters within this town. It's best to keep traditions; you never know when they'll die. But anyway," he waved off, his long coat hanging from the hook nailed into the wall, "come, we must discuss the lore of this dungeon before anything. It is essential."

The size of the room wasn't impressive, though the items and furnishings it obtained definitely were. A wide map of Oestemoor was painted across a blank wall, bookcases against another while wide paintings - hung fashionably beside small windows - and a desk sat opposite of the map. Along the last wall, swords and armor rested high above scattered parchments nailed to the old boards. The lord situated himself at the desk, gesturing for the huntress to seat herself on a small, wooden chair.

"Have you seen these paintings before?" he pointed towards the array of art behind him. Tori observed them closely, having not gotten the chance before. The depictions were each horrifying - fire, black, smoke, cobblestone streets, sprinting people and beasts. Each of the monsters had red eyes, though subtle differences were made with each one. The strange shadows all clutched a glowing item in their hands; four had only orbs within fists while another also bore a long black sword with red, fiery veins pulsing through it.

She furrowed her brows, though continued to gaze upon the pieces.

Four others held the colors blue, white, yellow and green in their hands, the various lights shining against their white fangs and searing red eyes. Another, which only hand one eye, held purple with the sword in its grasp.

"These beasts of black," Lord Mortimer murmured, "came out of the dungeons a few years shy of three hundred years ago. It was the fifteenth Year of Wolf, then. It was the celebration of Carnival, and everybody hadn't expected an attack. The beast of the dungeons let out a terrible force, allowing all of these creatures to run away."

"Who led the dungeons?" Tori asked.

The man sighed, replying, "Her true name has been lost by the test of time...I do not know. _But_ , throughout Oestemoor another name has been branded. It is taboo to speak of it, especially in King Beck's kingdom."

"What happens if you do?"

"If the king hears you," he grumbled tiredly, "you'll be in for a nightmare. He's never liked the name and will punish those gravelly as horrible as he would cannibals." Readjusting himself in his seat, the lord leaned forward. "She goes by Aglæca." It was derivative of an old tongue, not spoken for centuries - Elken. It was the heart of evil, destruction and chaos. _Demon_. "Now, there are more details you shall know of. Firstly, the dungeon is excellently built," he continued, "and _excellently_ guarded. Those who managed to make it out alive spoke of great 'guards' who resemble different monsters, and then there are entities that lurk about. The walls move, some of the rooms are closed off, others caved in."

"How did that happen?" the Bellator furrowed her brows.

"Time," he shrugged. "And that, my friend, is all I have to share." She nodded, pursing her lips with her brows creasing her forehead.

Lifting her gaze, she asked, "When do I start?"

"Now, if you desire to. I will give the thousand shillings after you are done. There wouldn't be any use of giving it to you before if you perish in those wretched walls." Understanding the man, Tori excused herself with a firm shake of a hand before striding through the front door.

She blended with the crowds well, even with the large sword by her side. The huntress ignored the calls, warning her of the dungeon. Venturing out, she quickly found herself at the footsteps of the mountain. The town was built right in front of the Oestemoor Dungeons.

Starting her adventure, Tori strode up the steps, taking a few moments to gaze out from the railing. The city - formidable from the outside - was majestic from her view. The higher she went, the more softer the landscape seemed. And right at the height of the long staircase, she leaned against the stone railing, gazing out into the field.

"You remind me so much of her..." An airy voice jerked her attention from behind, white glowing eyes among the dark doorway.

"Excuse me?"

"The Madam," the voice spoke, its age seeping in the few words he spoke, "she would always stand there whenever trouble brewed." She stared for a few moments, waiting for the voice to speak once again. "What have you learned of this dungeon?"

Tori swallowed, recounting the details she'd just learned barely an hour before. "A wicked beast sent her forces to the town, and meant to destroy everything... Why?"

She heard a large inhale before he muttered, "All of those who have come here to kill whatever beast lurks in here always attacks me and my friends. They think that the beasts only attacked the town, but they did _not_. You were sent here to kill a beast, weren't you?" She nodded, the glowing eyes blinking. "Come inside if you want to find the truth, though we don't truly know it either." Obediently, she strode through the door, the familiar sound of claws against hard floors clicking beside her. "Follow me," the voice spoke, a great body thundering beside her. She tried hard to keep her heart from her throat. "I will lead you to the first floor, and we shall see how smart you are."

Stairs had come suddenly, her feet catching air. Tori yelped, her hands snatching steps as she collapsed. The voice only chuckled, warning too late, "It is dark in here. Watch where you walk."

"Thanks," she grunted, glaring out into the black. As she minded the stairs, dim lights flickered around the bend. Following the creature, she found that he resembled old depictions of dragons, though much smaller. He had long black fur and short ears, his jawline and tail the only things truly mirroring that of a dragon - with fur. His glowing eyes peered at her in the dim light, his body settling comfortably in a stone chair pressed against the wall; Tori looked closer, and came to realize that it _was_ a part of the wall, merely carved out of it.

"What is your name, young one?" he asked curiously, long knobby fingers playing with the ends of his worn, though thick, purple robes.

"Tori Vega-Bellator," she answered meekly.

"What a nice name," he mumbled thoughtfully. His pleased expression of finding a visitor drifted away, a grim glint then flashing in his eyes. "You wish to find truth, yes? The truth of what happened to these walls." She nodded obediently. "Now...where to start. Perhaps I shall give you the life that roamed these walls, and then the despair.

"The Madam built this for my kin, Loyals kin, and giant kin. The Loyals were made of eleven, and they were the strongest of the guards. They could venture out into the world at her bidding. We, my kin, guard each of the seven levels. I the first as I am usually permitted to go as I please with my knowledge and skill. My brothers and sister guard the other six levels... Giants had roamed these halls as it was a sanctuary for them. The fifth level is the largest. It allowed for them to live in their own small village...so long as they helped protect the dungeon from a dangerous force to the east." Tori listened carefully, sitting beside the dragon-esque creature. While the tales he spoke of were Romantic of the dungeon's previous life, she took it grain by grain.

For all the huntress knew, the strange creature could be the beast she sought to kill.

"Though, by the last Carnival, everything went to damnation. Entities had struck our walls, urging the Madam to go down to the seventh level. A terrible curse was expelled out into the air, plaguing our senses. Monsters and beasts fought us, killed many of the giants as they fled. We though," his voice began to rise, the strong, weathered snarl proud, " _we_ Dragon-Kin remained loyal to our Madam!" His fist slammed against the chair, spooking the Bellator. " _We_ remained and haven't left, protecting this damned dungeon from the same, wretched beasts that disease the forests around."

"So, so the Madam isn't behind this?" The Dragon-Kin stared down at her carefully, his proud nature ceasing, allowing weary eyes to remain.

"She perished with the Loyals that day. The entrances to the lower levels collapsed. My sister and three brothers cannot get out; they haven't seen light in so long. Ludhiana and Khaumbach are the only ones who can see the sun as I do when they venture from their levels. However, I can still speak to Luana and Fordicana through the pipes; my last brother on the final level, the best of us, we haven't heard from. I suspect he is dead with the Madam," he grumbled hoarsely. "If you wish to speak to them and have them allow you to the final level, come with me. There are few stairwells that the Madam used to quickly get to her level."

"Are there some on each floor?" she asked, following the large creature.

"Every one... The walls move, though. They hadn't when the Madam was alive. The dungeons are angry, livid at the monstrous beings that still lurk here. She doesn't want them to escape, the dungeon. Though, I fear that is what's weakening her... The walls will crumble by the next century if this continues...destroying the mountain with herself." The grim fate settled itself heavily on her shoulders, the creature growling at a burnt-out torch. "When the Madam was here, torches were never unlit. Constantly burning." With an icy breath, a flame ignited. "I've been attempting to learn her secrets so I wouldn't have the chore, though I am no bruixa, just Dragon-Kin," he chuckled.

They continued down a long hall, Tori pricking her attention towards her side. A faucet of water splashed against a small canal, which ran through the hall and down elongated steps. "Anyway, as I was saying," he shook his head, realizing he'd dropped the conversation from before, "the walls move. Every few weeks the wall will block this canal, this whole section -" he motioned to the doorway just behind them "- and I cannot speak to the others. It does the same for Luana at that time. Khaumbach, every few months, will have multiple walls move unexpectedly, sometimes trapping him in a still room if he forgets to avoid the area at that time. Some walls move by the hour, or weekly, monthly, and some years.

"Alike the walls I've mentioned, the stairwells that lead to the last floor are the same. The one at my level had just closed in the past few hours, and will not open again until a decade. The one at Ludhiana's level will not open for a week or two. Khaumbach's, however, will open and close while you are trying to get to it. It opens and closes every few hours." Tori nodded at the very informative collection of information, halting where the Dragon-Kin had. A large pillar stood with a square-cut hole in the center, a metal pipe within it. The pipe, too, bore a hole. "This along with some other walls do not move," the creature scratched his black fur, which Tori noted was streaked with long lines of white and grey.

Clearing his throat, he muttered, "Hello? Ludhiana? Khaumbach? Are you there?" Tapping his fingers along the column, he whispered to his side - like a child would a secret - "At times, it takes a while for them to move. Ludhiana's level has the most vigorous walls. They constantly move, never ending. His life is filled with walking with a fire, black entities, and short naps. Khaumbach's level floods, the pipes for the water broke a century or so ago. He's a terrible swimmer..."

"You try not being able to dry half the time!" an irritable - noticeably more youthful - voice snapped.

"Ah! Khaumbach! Why how are you?" the older Dragon-Kin snickered.

"Shut your pie hole, Sikowitz. I'm still pissed that you sent that rat down," he answered grumpily.

Sikowitz only chuckled, glancing towards the huntress. "Now Khaumbach," he continued sincerely, "another has been sent down to kill a beast."

"What's he doing this time? I swear the last one was a nuisance to deal with," he grumbled, adding, "though he did taste good with the fire."

"You are despicable," the older creature growled.

"Not like you complained." Sikowitz only shrugged, watching the worried expression on Tori's face.

"Like I said, you aren't eating another one of them. That was the _last_ one. You and Ludhiana are dreadful... They need to bury their dead at some point," he retorted. "Anyway, you shall not kill this one. She's different, I believe."

"Oh?"

As Khaumbach began to ask several question, Sikowitz interrupted with, "Well, for one, she didn't run when you described eating the least soul." The Dragon-Kin remained silent, allowing Sikowitz a hearty laugh. Another voice came through the pipe, one that was more mellow and lighter. "Luana? Here to join the fun?"

"Greetings Sikowitz. I just heard of a newcomer," she muttered.

"Yes, she's here to kill a beast."

"What beast? As far as I know, there's a plethora of them," Luana grumbled. Tori shifted in her stance, growing uncomfortable of the conversation; she'd never enjoyed having people talk about her in front of her.

"What is it?" another voice tuned in, more husky than before.

Sikowitz grinned, his long teeth glittering in the light. "Ludhiana! How nice of you to join. We have another warrior here to kill a beast. She wishes to pass you and Khaumbach's chambers in order to use the stairwell on the third level... You know which one I refer to, correct?"

"Of course," both murmured in unison, Luana only listening.

"Well, she will not be any trouble at all, correct?" His glowing eyes surveyed the Bellator, requesting a verbal answer - she knew that much.

"Yes."

"I will help guide her along the level," Ludhiana promised, adding, "it is confusing and requires that of memory."

Sikowitz nodded in appreciation, asking for Khaumbach. "The walls that lead to Ludhiana's floor are blocked, at the moment. I was stuck at them when I heard you call. Some opened for me as others closed, though."

"When will they open?" Sikowitz asked, somewhat worried.

"Oh, they'll open by the time they get through the second level. I will try to get there by that time, though I doubt that is possible... There's a pack of entities that I have to deal with," he hummed. "I will start now, actually. Best if I get rid of them sooner than later." A loud splash was sounded thereafter, Khaumbach's leave known. Silence was blanketed for a few moments, the older Dragon-Kin suspecting that Ludhiana had left as well.

Luana spoke after a minute of waiting. "When will the next rations be sent down?"

"After this little fellow is done. I'd hate to leave and then chaos strikes again," Sikowitz answered. Luana agreed before leaving with a short hum. "Alright, my kin are coming to help you to the last floor. I doubt that Ludhiana will come immediately, though you may walk towards the center piece there," he gestured, "he'll find you."

"Thank you, Sikowitz," she nodded, walking towards the large stairs.

"And I hope the best of luck to you," he smiled before turning around. Once he disappeared in the dark shadows, Tori found the centerpiece he had referred to. Settling beside it, she watched the walls carefully. Each of the sides were worn, marked with movement. However, she didn't suspect for a moment that they were weak. Sighing, she closed her eyes, waiting for the Dragon-Kin to collect her in due time.

**. . .**

He slithered around the wall, finding a young woman by a small, marble statue of a tree. She was clad with relatively heavy armor, her long ponytail draping over her shoulder. Ludhiana grinned, his fiery fur and black eyes lit in the dim torchlight. "I assume you are the warrior Sikowitz brought to my chambers?" he asked quietly.

She jerked to life immediately, wide eyes towards the Dragon-Kin. Tori breathed softly, replying with, "And I assume you're Ludhiana?" He bowed his head politely, gesturing her to follow.

"The walls will move quickly, now. That area and a few others are unaffected. Come." He wasn't wrong, several times the huntress had to dodge the sliding bricks in order to keep her skin soft and as scar-less as she could. And though she had been clipped by a couple, the creature was pleasantly surprised by her reflexes. "Quickly now, in here," he waved as the walls slowed. Tori felt her limbs scrape another wall as it began to close, leaving the two panting. "Every now and again they will go insane, mix up the dates that a wall would open or close. So instead of this one revealing another passage in a week, it'll do so in a day."

"A-a day? Are we stuck here?"

"Not necessarily, unless you want to use this wall," he tapped the wall he leaned against. "No, we'll go with that one right over there, behind the scratched picture," Ludhiana nodded towards the framed piece. It was hard to tell what the image bore as it had been weathered for too long. "That will open in a few hours, and then the next in another few. There will be a few more halls to pass after that, but nothing too drastic. It will lead you to another, rather unused gate on Khaumbach's end...and that will be closer to the stairwell."

"Alright then," she rested herself against a wall, siding besides the great creature. He smiled happily at the company, constantly looking down at the huntress. She was rather tall compared to her home village, as well as most of the cities she walked with, though the Dragon-Kin made her feel like a measly troll. At the same time, however, they were oddly comforting. "So, how many have come here?"

"Hundreds," he muttered. "We've left the ones searching for a beast as they mean well, though they attack one of us and they pay for it. You understand, right?" Tori nodded. "Though, many also tend to steal what art and weapons and such we have. They pay quickly... Now, from where do you come from?"

"FjordsMarrow," she answered softly. At that, the creature hummed grimly, knowing the fate of her people.

"Bellator, yes?" Tori nodded solemnly. "Your people have suffered too much for their times...and their downfall mirrored that. How many of you are left, if you don't mind my curiosity."

She grinned, mumbling, "It's fine. There weren't many survivors. My sister and a lot of other women work as maids in manors and castles along the Oestemoor borders. Some of the men were alive when I left them, though I do not know if they survived the battles of our war. I am the only woman-warrior left from what I know."

"It's a shame. Your people were too strong to die off so quickly. Though, saying that, I sense you carry the spirit of your people with you. You are the definition, the epitome of your people, yes?" There was no answer, though Tori smiled nonetheless. "My kin also died off quickly too... My brothers and sisters work for the bruixa left, in their dungeons. We owe everything to the madams and lords. Though, the Madam we served was the most powerful of them all - even without her rage."

"How so?"

"Even though they are considered relatively ancient now," he hummed, closing his eyes, "she predated them all. She predated Maytredsworth, King Beck's reign...the Oestemoor borders...the giant's empire. She was born to the dynasty that resided here near to a thousand years ago. And now...we do not know."

"Sikowitz said that she perished three hundred years ago, at the last Carnival," Tori commented.

"Yes...and as unfortunate as the claim is, we do not know. We only predict. We cannot see for ourselves if the souls trapped on the last floor are dead. Perhaps the pipe that we use to communicate with is blocked off by walls, and we do not know. But...we _believe_ that she is dead." He breathed in slowly, opening his black eyes. "We have time...shall I tell you the tale of our kin?" Tori nodded and listened, imagining herself as a small girl at the foot of her grandmother's chair.

Ludhiana was a storyteller at heart, she knew. Many people had told her stories to pass the time, her sister included, though few were able to string words together and invite her into their world.

He told stories of ancient Dragon-Kin heroes defeating the enemy. He told stories of the enemy defeating Dragon-Kin. He described their downfall, and their search of a purpose. Sikowitz was a leader of a new era, searching for a new hope. He was driven mad. Luana, his sister by blood and kin, was born under a blue moon and destined to destroy a great, giant king - she fulfilled that promise. Ludhiana and Khaumbach both sided with her, driving away giants with the help of another kind. The allied giants, he told, once resided in the Oestemoor Dungeons. They, however, are the ancestors of the terrors of the modern age after escaping the dreadful Carnival night. Fordicana had been a slave at birth, saved by Sikowitz and the small, wandering Dragon-Kin village. As their population lessened, their desire and desperation for a home grew. Herpinatious, the guard of the last and lowest chamber, had been a survivor of another tribe. He had found the Madam, and offered the dungeon as a home. Many didn't make the trek, though the few that did grew loyal to the Madam and her home.

Once the wall creaked open, they strolled towards the next wall, sliding against it to share more stories.

Tori delivered the stories that her grandmother gave. Some were of the birth of her people, and others tales similar to her favorite: the beast of the fire kingdom. Ludhiana remained entertained with each story, nodding in eagerness. Eventually, a silence had wedged itself between the two, their eyes wandering around the corridor.

"You hear it too?" Tori whispered quietly.

"Yes, even with my ancient ears," he mumbled. At another time, the small self-jab would've earned a chuckle. "Entities...I think." Tori felt the great-sword at her hip, Ludhiana raising to a crouch. Torches' flames wisped away as a charcoal aroma swarmed the otherwise musky air. "Damn."

Three black figures appeared that the end of the hallway, three pairs of eyes staring at the two. With wicked screeches, they blasted forth. The first leading immediately recoiled as long talons sliced across its face. Ludhiana growled before bashing the small monster against the wall, successfully claiming its life. He twisted around to find the other two dead as another three - who'd apparently joined - snapped at the Bellator.

With a quick fury, she sliced through their flesh, ending them easily. "They have become weaker the longer they stay here, though they're a nuisance in numbers."

"I can agree with that," she grumbled, sliding her blade back to its proper place. The wall behind them opened itself, revealing a mirror image of Ludhiana. He smiled in the hall.

"Greetings brother!"

"Why are you here? Don't you have those entities to deal with?" Ludhiana inquired. Khaumbach - as Tori presumed - shrugged, his green robes notably drenched while Ludhiana's dark blue ones were dried.

"Well, I got them out of mine but - ah - you have some company to deal with." The twin grinned cheekily, Ludhiana groaning. "I'll take her off your hands, brother," he promised.

Ludhiana, sighed, turning towards the huntress. "You really are the spirit of your people, and good company," he complimented.

"Thank-you," she bowed her head before joining the other. As Ludhiana sprinted off to deal with his twin's problems - now his - Khaumbach trotted along the halls with Tori at his heel. They had made their way to the flooded chambers rather quickly, and the Bellator suspected that her trip would have been longer in the other's company. Khaumbach shivered as he dipped himself into the water, Tori easing herself in as well. The Dragon-Kin explained that the path they were to take wouldn't require a whole deal of swimming, though other parts had the floors caved in.

"Luana's always having to block off the water that comes into hers. And because of the pipes, the water is never ceasing," he added. "The stairwell will be around a corner or two. The last level is the smallest of them all, as it was really only built for Madam West and few others if they needed to speak with her. Come now, we must hurry before the walls change again. I'd hate to be soggy forever...I need to get to my chair." Apparently, Khaumbach only had few posts to keep himself dry, the communication pipe and his stone chair being some of the awkward spots.

Tori giggled softly, following the Dragon-Kin as he sifted through the water.

**. . .**

With torch in hand (Khaumbach had graciously given it to her as a way to dry herself off as she went down past three other floors), the huntress stepped down the stairs carefully, her right hand brushing against her blade's hilt. Her skin felt chills as her body escaped the warm light of the upper floor, diving itself in complete darkness. "Khaumbach wasn't wrong..." she whispered to herself, her steps halting at the landing. Her head twisted around anxiously, eyes darting left and right to find any sort of danger. Unlike the past six floors, none came around the corner or from the ceiling. All was quiet.

All was _silent_ other than the flickering flames in her hands and that fact alone made her feel uneasy, wanting at least a sign of any life.

Tori's brows furrowed curiously, despite her nerves, dark eyes running alongside the rows of torches to the right and some to the left and few forward. The stone bricks along the wall blinked back as the shadows of the torch twitched uncomfortably. The tapestries - which hung long against the stone walls - gazed back wearily, bearing a coat of dust caked onto it. Along the corridor, as far as the light touched, dark eyes saw scattered piles of dust and even some misshapen bricks. She frowned as she looked up; the ceiling too high for any sort of clarification with the torch in her hands.

It was empty, no guard in sight.

Despite her puzzlement, she strode on, constantly glancing at the bricks along the walls. As before, she appreciated this dungeon's fine architecture; it was the best she had seen, considering it had been built centuries ago. Her cloak rustled behind, attention twisting her head left and right along the long corridors. Tori vaguely recalled Khaumbach's comment about this level being the smallest; and as she looked around, the huntress found that he wasn't necessarily wrong in terms of floor space. From where she stood, with the torch flickering in her hand, two of the four halls she at the intersection which she then stood were dead ends with great, marble statues at the ends.

On the left, she saw, was a huge statue of a domesticated cat reaching half the height of the walls. It bore a chain around its neck - more like a necklace, she assumed - with a large, intricately cut jade in the center of a locket. Its eyes gazed straight ahead, the feline's features almost smug with its tail wrapped around the front paws.

Turning to the right was the other marble statue. On a throne sat a man with a great crown with the beginnings of a beard whisking along his jawline and lips. His hair fluffed around the crown which had also presented a gleaming green jewel - even through the dust - in the center. Long robes reached down to his feet beside a long staff that was gripped mightily in his firm grasp. Tori's brows furrowed in thought, her steps nearing the entrance of the hall. The face that the statue shown felt familiar to her, though she couldn't put her finger on it.

Brushing it off, she stalked towards the longest hall, soon finding a flight of stairs that met with each wall. _'This has to be it,'_ her thoughts blandly concluded, her feet striding down carefully. The stones alike those of the walls were - for the most part - solid with the exception of multiple that were cracked, loose or just a powdered mess. That aside, she eventually made her way to the bottom, a set of huge doors before her, one slightly adjacent to the other. From what she had saw in the fine detail, it was once a beautiful set with the intricate carvings of smoke and fire in the center. Tori's attention was then brought to her right where a stand stood like an awkward crow at a swan's pond; it didn't look as if it belonged but, alike everything else, it was there.

She glanced down at the gauntlet around her left arm before going back to the stand. It was for the same piece of armor, she knew for sure. Curiously, she turned behind her, not yet ready to go into the main throne room. Her brows stitched themselves together, the light of the torch bathing a stone chair - alike the several others - in a warm light. Perplexed, she lowered her light before yelping, promptly crashing into the gauntlet shelf behind her.

With wide eyes, she let the sight before her sink in. Spears dug into the stone, straight through a large skeleton of what was the guard. The skull, with a dagger straight through it, had large jowls with long canine teeth that must have protruded from the mouth. It's spine, held down to the floor with the narrow weapons, was long with great, compact limbs jutting from it, a tail curling against the chair. A silver chain connected to a piece of jade had hung from its neck.

Hesitantly, Tori maneuvered towards the pile of bones with long, torn robes that had once draped the mighty creature. With a firm grip on the first spear - which impaled the guard at the shoulders - she gave a quick heave, successfully tearing the weapon from the ground. The spearhead was then casually wiped with her cloak before she continued, sidestepping into the throne room.

If she had felt uneasy before, it wasn't as magnified as it was then. Her gut twisted as she gazed around, the room engulfed in complete and utter darkness. The huntress' hands brushed against rough stone beside the door, climbing up to what seemed like a bowl. With her assumptions and knowledge of some of the "lower-class" strongholds, her fingers felt around in the bowl, immediately recoiling in surprise.

Her fingers rubbed against each other, a slick substance coating them. She briefly put her nose to it before grimacing, the musty odor filling her nostrils. Once wiping the liquid on her clothes, she put the torch's dying flame to the bowl, a string of fire trailing rapidly across the room. Her eyes followed curiously as it wrapped around the wall on a ledge, meeting the bowl on the left side. She grinned momentarily before the flicking flames vanished, leaving the room to its former dark, bitter atmosphere. Narrowing her eyes towards the floor she couldn't see, Tori grumbled under her breath before startling briefly, warm light bathing the room again.

This time, however, the torches that were placed firmly against the stone bricks above the ledge - the very same the huntress had just lighted - were lit, their flames bigger, giving a warmer light. "Well I'll be," Tori smirked humbly, tossing her own torch away as the fire dissipated, "This dungeon is something of the gods, isn't it?" While within the confines of her wonder, a small frown stitched across her brows as dark, rusted eyes flickered between the shadowy, black marks that had scorched upon the walls. Bricks, too, were cracked and rough.

Her attention made its way off the walls and to the room itself, sending great weariness in her soul. Nothing, _nothing_ , in this dungeon looked as weathered as this room had; even the rooms that were caved in or ransacked didn't look as misshaped. The walls had many boxes propped up against them, creaking a makeshift barrier. A great number of them, however, were in complete disarray. A brick lay crushed just before the few steps leading down into the center, her eyes instinctively gaze up at a block-shaped hole in the ceiling. Feeling nervous, she stepped to the side, not wanting the surrounding bricks to fall, and if the chance were to come, certainly not on her. Right in the center of the room behind a long, stone box was a pile of junk, a long chain surrounding it. Eyes back up to the ceiling where the pile settled underneath, Tori found cracks and a chunk of a brick chipped off.

And then there was that long, casket-like box. She stepped closer, her neck prickling against her chest plate; there was no grim, no powdered stone or even dust coating it. On the sides it bore a lion's head with a heart within its jaws. The long, golden rimmed case almost glimmered in her eyes, coaxing her nearer. With a slow gulp, Tori stepped her way towards it, spear in hand. There was writing along the bottom, snatching her attention. Her eyes skimmed across them - as she had temporarily assumed they were useless - before they went back through. _'No, they aren't useless,'_ her mind scolded her first impressions.

Even so, she focused on the scratch marks on the corners. It was odd in her mind, her hand grazing over it before the ground. The stone right behind was very gritty, sending chills down her spine at the texture of it. However, to her surprise, the ground that she stood on was smooth as if it was cut and polished only the day prior. Once again the nature of this dungeon had struck her architectural fantasies. Her eyes followed the rough lines leading to the scratched gold, all of the rough stone had some glimmer streaked through as well. The huntress had always known gold to be a soft material, thus favoring other materials for combat. The streaks - once Tori pulled herself from her fantasies - ran behind the box before they dove under the huge pile.

The casket wasn't in the middle of the throne room - if she could even call it that for there were no thrones, nor even chairs, of any kind - but as she observed, if the pile was replaced by it, the casket would've been. Her head twisted to the long box once more, her assumptions gathering that this really was an important piece. Tori looked over the words again, the gears within her skull working through the directions. "Knock once in the center, thrice on the left side of these words, twice on the right of these words then once in the center. Repeat 'javnost' before the first knock and after the last," she read out loud. It was simple enough, she reasoned, standing up.

The huntress gripped the spear more firmly in her hands, expecting a long, tiring battle once the box or casket - whatever it was - opened. "Javnost," she murmured aloud, her first knuckle knocking against the smooth surface in the middle once. Steps darted to the left, three more knocks echoing in the room. Tori then circled around, two more knocks sounding before one, final knock. Hesitantly, she took a step back, "Javnost," slurring from her lips.

With a sudden lurch in the ground, the huntress suddenly feeling uneasy, her eyes widened as the golden box creaked open. A sudden wave of black mist swept across the room, promptly putting out all of the fire before escaping out the doors. Finding herself on her knees, dark eyes blinked rapidly as Tori looked at the box which now emitted a white, god-like light that only lit the small circle around the box, but nothing more. The walls were still dark, her mind flickering at the possibilities of what could be hiding in it, even if Tori had just searched through the room beforehand.

And then she saw it; a softer, dark mist began to materialize, moving gently from the box and the white light. As it came together, long, dark brunette hair soon fell on her bare chest and back, a torso forming as a thin robe draped over her shoulders. The huntress crouched, watching the pale woman's chest become covered, pastel hands gripping the air. Two pairs of gauntlets almost looked as they slipped on, black leather weaved with strong metal sheets that protruded from her hands by a small bit. Tori had concluded that these gauntlets were the same ones stored in the shelf just outside the door. As the woman stepped out, the hunter tensing, the white light behind her faded into nothingness.

Before she could even consider dashing away for some light - though it would now be impossible with a fire-less torch - Tori staggered back abruptly, a mane of fire flickering along the woman's forearm. Though her features were slightly distorted from the moving light, the only thought that flashed through Tori's mind was, _'Beautiful...'_ Her pale skin showed no scars, unlike the huntress, and her features were strong with a gentle edge. And though it was her eyes that kept Tori still. Her eyes - as pale as the moon's reflection in a lake - pierced through dark, rusted ones without blinking, the fire in the corner of them. They were like nothing the Bellator had ever seen before.

And then the fire dispersed, a small part of each flying towards a torch, igniting the room in a brighter light from before. The woman, standing straighter and taller than the armored hunter, tilted her head to the side, eyebrow raising out of curiosity.

Neither moved. Neither spoke.


	4. Part I: Dungeons of Oestemoor - The Madam Bruixa

_**No One's Perspective** _ _**-** _

Flames licked along the stone bricks as the two women in the middle of the room stood, eyes not darting from the other. As the huntress stood up hesitantly - her height still not going over the other's - pale eyes flicked over the armor. They observed how scratched the one gauntlet, leg guards and chest plates were, the metals mismatched. A torn, white band wrapped around her left arm - the woman's right - with dried blood splotched along it.

Her eyes then rested on the spear that didn't quiver, though tilted slightly as the huntress' left arm halted in its movements, right around the back of her belt. In her eyes, the pale woman's stare allowed a chill to creep up her spine, watching helplessly as it surveyed her opponent. _'That is, if she's going to attack me,'_ her thoughts wavered anxiously, dark eyes narrowing in interest. She didn't look well equipped to fight in anyway, she reasoned, her own eyes flicking along the thin, black robe that without it the woman would be bare.

"Why have you come here?" a quiet husk switched Tori's attention to those eyes.

Digesting the words that _were_ in the language she spoke - although a slight, strange accent was laced within it - the huntress exhaled slowly, choosing her own. "You answer the question that I have and I'll answer yours," she murmured quietly. "Who are you?"

The woman's jaw moved, eyebrows forming together seamlessly as she stared at the Bellator. "I asked first and you're intruding. So I'll ask this again, _why_ have you come here with that blasted spear and sword?" the woman seethed, her incising eyes growing fierce. Tori swallowed, eyes quickly dashing over the strange woman's shoulder.

"I've been sent here by the people to rid you for them," she answered after a few moments.

The woman sneered, white teeth flashing in the room's light. "So be it," she snarled. Tori was barely able to dodge the gauntlet's blades, baffled of the use of them - she's never seen any used as such before, besides those which had retired _hundreds_ of years prior, all brittle. As the slick metal glinted in the torches' glare, she grew to believe that unlike the small discoveries in past abandoned dungeons, these were deadly.

Especially in the hands of the woman.

The more the spear was battered and chipped as they scuffled throughout the room, the Bellator realized quickly that her opponent _was_ \- in fact - a fair one. While it was rare for a person to even be able to back Tori into a wall, she'd always had the upper hand.

She grunted as she felt herself tumble to the ground, one half of the spear having shot against her shoulder whilst the other flown to the corner; Tori was grateful that the _end_ of the weapon was the one that hit her. The Elken great-sword was quickly in her grasp, determination in her glare. The huntress felt herself subtly disconcerted once the woman only arched a brow at the long blade. With a sudden growl, Tori launched herself towards the woman, the great-sword hurtling down towards gauntlets. The woman's forearms came together in a cross, catching the blade. They shook with the force pushing against them; the woman had to admit, the warrior was strong, especially with the rather lean build.

However, even with the almost-admired strength, Tori's blade shrieked, its body slicing in two. The top clinked against the ground pitifully, leaving the huntress to stare at the hilt in her grasp. "My...my sword. How did you break it?"

The woman snorted at the question, backing away with ease; the gesture was more mocking than subdued. "An Elken blade?" Tori nodded slowly. "My god, I wonder how you've managed to live with that being by your belt," the woman taunted.

"It's the strongest blade in the century!" the Bellator retorted, tossing the handle away.

"The _strongest_ my ass. The Elkish, though pristine in their works, used the _worst_ metals that would better suit the topping of a bread." Flames began to swallow her arm once again, Tori staggering back. In a quick flash, she whipped out her small knife, mentally begging that the only blade she now acquired would be able to kill the woman, who she suspected was the beast. She dodged the ball of fire that was hurled towards her chest, scorching the wall behind her. "Now..." the woman scowled, "how about you stay still."

Tori thought of a different idea.

A _completely_ different idea.

She scattered around the room vigorously, desperately finding herself in a corner. The exit was on the opposite side of the room. Closing her eyes, she whimpered quietly as a shadow continued to march forward. The woman gasped painfully, her steps scuffing back. Doe eyes peered hesitantly towards the other, blinking in surprise. The woman grunted, leaning to her knees as her hand gripped her right forearm uneasily. Red streamed along the gauntlet, pooling to the floor. Three, long scratches began to stitch themselves together, the woman hissing quietly.

Tori remained still, perplexed as the woman held up one finger. A small flame settled at the tip of it, pale eyes lingering over the gauntlet. The Bellator blinked in surprise; a red gem - which now glowed until the flame was extinguished - settled at the top of the right gauntlet. Five depressions were along the gauntlet, and Tori felt something click in the back of her mind - other gems had resided in those spot.

She jerked once a strange, white light snapped in the air, the woman grimacing as the long lines in smooth, pale skin was reformed. The bleeding ceased as it had before, leaving lightly-stained skin. The woman got up, searching the room closely. Tori watched her carefully, unsure as of what to do. Her hand glided along the wall, pale eyes inspecting her knuckles. The woman's hand was covered in dust, which was wiped with her other palm.

The two remained silent, watching one another. The woman furrowed her brows as the bounty huntress shuffled nervously. She noticed the armor that Tori wore, and how strangely crafted each was; none were detailed, stylized. They were half-done.

Realization had struck her, though, and the woman thought about the armor more. Perhaps, they _were_ finished to the modern standards. Clearing her throat, she asked, "What year is this?"

The answer was slow and hesitant, a long blanket of stillness settling in between: "The Year of the Lamb."

The woman scoffed, rolling her eyes. She rephrased her question. "How many years has it been since the fifteenth Year of the Wolf?"

Tori furrowed her brows. The woman knew the Vorkshmite Calendar. At that point, it was the forty-fifth Year of Lamb: four hundred and forty-three years. The fifteen Year of Wolf was a hundred and forty-six years. "Is...is it the fifteenth Year of Wolf?" Tori asked quietly, a terrible idea dawning on her.

"Is it not?"

The Bellator gulped, mumbling, "It's the forty-fifth Year of Lamb." The woman whimpered, staggering back before she felt the wall against her shoulders. Slowly, she slid down to her knees. Nearly three centuries had past, and she couldn't believe it. A brick slammed into her chest, a fist clutched her throat tightly. Only weak, shuddering breaths escaped from between her teeth. Tori, as she gazed at the distraught woman, hesitantly stepped towards her.

Pale eyes swept towards her immediately. "Tell me why you are here, _now_."

Tori grimaced at the sickening tone, speaking softly. "The lord sent me to kill whatever has been slaughtering the innocent in the woods and dungeons for centuries. That's all I know. He told me of a tale of great, black entities that came out of the dungeon on Carnival, in the fifteen Year of Wolf..." she answered. Watching the hardened gaze on the woman's expression, Tori asked, "You haven't been tormenting the city or the forest, have you?"

"On that night, entities came into the dungeon... One was cursed, setting a spell over these walls. I could only see shadows, distorted visions of my downfall. They trapped me in that damned coffin," the woman grumbled, glancing towards the Bellator. "And then you got me out."

"Who...who are you?" Tori murmured her long awaited question.

The woman swallowed, an air of nobility surrounding her. "I am Madam Guardia-West of the Oestemoor Dungeons. Now who might you be?"

And the nobility wasn't ignored, or disregarded, either. Tori had heard of madams, a title given to very few, though brutally talented witches. Though, it was more that the Madam was well respected with the Dragon-Kin, and one which loyalty was definitely given.

She felt a hard lump at the base of her throat, which she swallowed: the Madam wasn't dead.

The Madam wasn't the beast, either, because there was none.

"I-I'm Tori Vega-Bellator...a bounty huntress." It was a true test of time for the Madam's reaction; no hint of remorse coated her gaze, nor did she glare at the sound of the profession. They were two from different times. _Completely_ different times - the Bellator had only heard of tales as old as the fifteenth Year of Wolf, and only one or two were older.

She clambered to her feet before reaching to help the bruixa up. Madam West shook her head, reaching to her full height on her own. The woman looked down at her forearm, thumbing over the missing gems. "I need to find these gems before getting to the bottom of my dungeon's secrets. Vega..." she mumbled slowly, eyeing the huntress carefully, "how did it look, the stories above?"

"Er... The walls move, there's black entities crawling all around," Tori began her list, "there's rooms and hallways that completely made it impossible to come down here, and then there's holes in walls that make it easy to _go_ into rooms."

"How did you get down here then?" Madam West questioned.

"Khaumbach led me to a small stairwell so I could make it. He said that the others were still attempting to move the rubble out of the way but the walls would move and prevent them."

The bruixa moved swiftly towards the sandy bricks that coated the walls, her palms against them. "In my memory, they never moved aside from very few on each level. Would all of them move?"

"Some would constantly move, and some by the hour, others by the day and many by the month," Tori answered, almost verbatim. The Madam growled, pressing her hands against the wall. She muttered strange words, which morphed into an oddly hypnotizing drone. As a reply, the dungeons creaked, moaning back through a soft wind. She turned around, arching a questioning brow over her shoulder at the startled Bellator.

"What's with you?" Madam West snapped.

Frowning, as she decided that the woman wasn't particularly _nice_ , Tori answered gruffly, "Never has a dungeon _answered_ before."

A sly smirk played the ancient woman's lips. "And what built those?"

"Depends... More so than not, soldiers from the war if they didn't find one."

"All dungeons built and managed by bruixa will live and hurt, heal, prosper. I've just brought back her immunity, and so she will be able to fight against the entities more effectively. First by _not_ having the walls move."

"A...a bruixa?" Madam West nodded. "Oh, I just haven't met one before. They're really rare now. Especially with the war," Tori mumbled. "Do you...do you want to know about the war? Since it's long after your time?"

"My curiosity can be satisfied later." The bruixa appeared to have pondered on the idea longer, pale eyes watching the other woman closely. "Would you help me find them? Lead me along this world that I no longer know, and help me fight what I can't imagine?" Tori nodded, Madam West bobbing her head once. "Hold out your hand." The Bellator followed the order, grasping the bruixa's arm in turn. "Now answer verbally this time," came another command, the left gauntlet growing warm against tan skin. "Will you help me find the five gems that contains my soul?"

Tori swallowed, the importance of the gems settling on her shoulders. "Yes."

"Will you guide me along these lands, keeping track of the dangers I do not yet know?"

"Yes."

"Will you stay by my side, never to run away nor fight against me?"

Tori nodded, before quickly adding, "Yes." Sweat began prickling her skin, the gauntlet becoming white-hot.

"Until the promise is fulfilled, will you be bound to me, Tori Vega-Bellator?"

The question sat unsettled in her consciousness, the woman staring at her coldly. Though, she had promised, and she acknowledged the beckoned word. "Yes." Tori startled once the heat around her forearm shot along her body, gripping her right ankle tightly. The bruixa remained still, only briefly grimacing. And then there was nothing. The gauntlet chilled, and the clutch of one another's forearms was gone. However, the now lukewarm hold on her ankle wasn't gone, only numbing itself.

Madam West flexed her hand, sighing deeply. "Follow me if you want to replace that sword," she grumbled, striding towards the doors. Tori blinked for a moment, stumbling after the woman while cursing at the random brick smashed on the floor. The door creaked open from her grip - the bruixa slipped through the open crack - and the huntress found the other crouched besides the remains of the guard. "Herpinatious," she hummed quietly, her fingers dancing along the skeleton. Gravely, the woman stood, leaving a lingering glance towards the remains. "Poor bastard. He was one of the strongest," Madam West whispered quietly.

Flames nearly exploded from the lanterns in the hallway, the markings on the great door more exaggerated. The bruixa started forward, Tori jogging to her side. Torches along the walls came to life with each one of the woman's steps. At the intersection, the torches lit to each statue which stood at their own hall. Turning towards the rather smug statue of a cat, the bruixa led the huntress. Tori, while following the other, glanced over her shoulder at the other hall; the man in the crown looked too familiar.

"Open."

The command ripped the Bellator from her thoughts, the statue of the cat sliding against the wall. A door peered behind it. "Where does the other one lead to?"

"My sleeping quarters," Madam West answered, her brisk strides flooding through the doorway. The statue from behind closed, leaving the women in the dim torch light. The hallway was smaller, _thinner_ ; it was apparent that this was made for one occupant. It streamed into a larger room, sturdy shelves extending from the walls - some acting as barriers themselves - were brimmed with weapons, armor, tools and shields.

 _Ancient_ weapons, armor, tools and shields.

"Choose what you need and those you know how to wield. Some are enchanted," Madam West muttered airily, her strides flowing as if she'd only walked amongst the artillery the day before. Once the huntress turned, the other wasn't to be seen aside from a shivering shadow within a wriggling torch's light. The robe was discarded, and Tori set her thoughts on the intricate designs carved into the metals of each piece.

All looked appetizing to grab for herself. She studied the long blades, giving each several swings. They were light though unique in each way. One made quick slashes in the air, and would've easily been Tori's choice if not for the fact that the blade itself; it had been battered to the point it wobbled against the hilt. Another longsword was tested, and while it was heavier than her older sword - by some - the blade was in pristine condition. The markings were intricately carved as the wobbly sword was, though the indentations were not worn. The hilt bore a firm grip as it was lined with linens, then leather.

As the blade - which proved to withstand the test more than the other weapons - was thicker than the retired great-sword, another scabbard was found as a replacement, fitting between her shoulder blades.

Tori, with her choice of sword done with, glanced towards the armor. She merely replaced the worn gauntlet with two others, both well used though still intact. The leg-guards - which had been falling apart and required refastenings every other change - were replaced quickly. As for her chest-plate, Tori remained adamant to herself about keeping the nostalgic piece, even if the four that lined the walls were no doubt stronger.

However, with time to spare as the Madam was not yet ready, she found herself analyzing the other weapons she hadn't seen before. Some were curved knives in the shape of a hand, and others were small barrels filled to the brim with gunpowder. While very few kingdoms found the resources to use the powder, handfuls of the ammunition costing thousands of shillings, barrels and barrels of the stuff was squashed in the corner.

Steps sounded behind the huntress, turning her immediately. Madam West stood there and Tori knew she was a force to be reckoned with. Her dark, brunette hair was collected in a fine braid, gold beads placed meticulously throughout. A long, black coat covered a dark grey, carved chest-plate and belts which two daggers hung on each hip. The gauntlets with the black leather settled on her forearms, matching the leg-guards which reached to her knee.

"We best get to the surface before long," she muttered, walking towards the hallway. Tori followed without a word, twisting through the several halls before reaching the stairwell that had led her to the chambers. The Madam maneuvered quickly, eager to make her way out. Tori didn't blame her by any means.

**. . .**

Great flames ignited themselves from the torches around him, promptly startling the Dragon-Kin. Khaumbach whirled around, the fires dancing in his eyes. They hadn't reached the proud height for centuries. He was only able to light them with half of the height, which was a feat that Luana, Ludhiana, Fordicana and even Sikowitz acknowledged. The creature smiled greatly. "Madam..."

Quickly, he rushed through the halls, some of the walls sliding to the former place, resting as they had originally. Water still sloshed against his limbs, leaving his garbs drenched. Even so, he halted at the sight of two shadows making their way in the stairwell. Madam West stepped into the water with a scowl, followed by the huntress. "Madam West! You've returned!" he exclaimed with gratitude, immediately bowing to his knees in the murky water. Pale eyes swam towards him, a small smile playing her lips.

"I've heard you helped her find me, Khaumbach, where are the others?"

"At their levels. Luana and Fordicana are trapped in theirs... What about Herpinatious?" he asked. At the shake of her head, he sighed at the closed fate. "He died fighting, I presume." He glanced at the sound walls, mumbling as he got to his feet, "Did you settle the dungeons?"

"She shouldn't move any longer," Madam West nodded. "Now, find a way to get the damn water out of the way and have the other levels open. We must have the dungeons protected once again."

"Yes, Madam," he bowed before skirting off, eager to fulfill an order by his majesty. The bruixa strode quickly through the waters, sneering at it throughout the way. They moved through the level quickly, soon finding the entrance to the second floor. Ludhiana, waiting by the stairs, quickly bowed at the sight of her.

"Madam West... How long we have missed you," he husked.

She smiled before beckoning, "Get to your feet, Ludhiana, and help your twin drain his floor and free Luana and Fordicana for god's sakes." He chuckled humorously before jogging down, quickly morphing into a scaled, slithering water creature. "Perhaps he should've been in charge of the third floor...his brother isn't to fond of swimming," she muttered quietly. Moving along the floor - which had a confusing floor space when the walls weren't insane - the two soon found their way to the last, and highest, chamber. Sikowitz was found at his chair, gazing into the fires of the torches.

"I've always admired your flames, Madam," he commented once the Guardia stepped into the room. He quirked a smile before bowing to his knees, giving his respect.

"As always Sikowitz," she smirked. "I will come back tomorrow, it appears that Vega has business with the lord."

"Naturally," his glowing eyes set between the two women. "Now what questions would you need by tomorrow? I sense your troubles."

"My soul gems were stolen. Only this one was left." The gauntlet was presented, Sikowitz giving a small huff.

He nodded, murmuring, "I had suspected that. I often see paintings that the townsfolk have kept in remembrance of the Carnival. Each one of the beasts have each of the colors... They also took your sword, Madam West, the Raven's Blade."

"For fuck's sake," Madam West spat. Sikowitz appeared humored by the crude language.

"Now, on a side note, did you bind the poor girl to you?" he chuckled, his eyes to their ankles. "I've heard of trust issues, Madam, though I think you take the pie." The Madam didn't answer, only bidding the Dragon-Kin a good night. Tori followed the woman in brisk steps, leaving a lingering glance towards Sikowitz. He smiled, highly amused.

For long, quiet moments, the Guardia stood, looking out into the landscape. Much had changed while she was imprisoned. "We best move along," she whispered to herself as Tori became fixed with the view. The Bellator hadn't noticed that the Madam had left, until a low, harsh whistle sounded. She twisted around to find Madam West down the steps, watching her with an arched brow. "Come on!" Tori grumbled to herself - she wasn't a hound.

Even so, she obeyed.

They began to stroll along the grassy field from the mountain, a distinct distance between one another. Tori furrowed her brows from what Sikowitz had said, looking to her side. Madam West walked with long strides, her scowl occasionally morphing into a wince. "Madam West?" The older woman blinked before glancing to her left. "I- Uh...what did Sikowitz mean by I'm bound to you?"

"Do you want to learn the plain way or the fun way?" the Guardia smirked. Tori gulped, unsure as of what to choose.

"Erm, the fun way?"

Immediately she regretted her decision once the Madam halted, standing firmly in place. "Run. As fast as you can, _run_." The huntress only blinked, her brows furrowed. " _Go_! Just do it, it'll be fun." Tori hesitated before taking a few strides. She stopped, watching as Madam West gestured her to move forward. Sighing, the Bellator briefly closed her eyes before charging forward with incredible speed. The wind kissed her cheeks as the grass waved her away, the sun rising against the towers in enjoyment.

However, her right ankle grew colder as she ran further on. Within moments, a brutal, chilling force snatched her ankle, sending her to the ground. Tori coughed heavily, spitting what dirt had been in her mouth. She felt pity on steeds and cattle. Tori glared at her ankle before gasping in surprise. There was a glowing chain around her ankle. She watched as it dimmed, the light becoming invisible. Anxiously, she lowered the cloth that had risen from her ankle, covering the inked numbers, _1_ _9151_ , from view.

Madam West came to view with a wide smile, eyes glinting sadistically. "You're heartless," Tori scowled.

"Oh? Then you must balance that out, do you?" Madam West snickered. She was highly amused by the stunt. "Now get up, guide me to this lord and then we'll continue forth." The huntress nodded, easing herself to her feet. She wobbled slightly, her eyes hardening on the Madam.

She wondered how long she'd deal with the bruixa, and if she'd enjoy any part of it.

If she would find herself amused, it wouldn't come soon.

* * *

_Vorkshmite Calendar_ _:_

_The Vorkshmite Calendar was created by the Vorkshmite, and ancient people. However, the calendar was abandoned as another was used. In time, though, the calendar was repurposed, and started a new era after the rise of a new Psyche Daemon. It is based on beginning and end, only restarting every decade. Each "Year of [Blank]" is 365 days. Every four years, there is a "Year of Celestial [Blank]" which is 366 days._

_Year of Dusk; Year of Dawn._

_Year of Lamb; Year of Sheep._

_Year of Cub; Year of Wolf._

_Year of Fawn; Year of Deer._

_Year of Foal; Year of Steed._

_The years are often stated as "The 15th Year of Wolf." In order to understand, multiply fifteen by ten (150) then subtract four as the wolf is the sixth year. The 15th Year of Wolf is 146 years._


End file.
